You Have Me
by She'sLikeTexas
Summary: Tony Stark is a twenty year old college student trying to get by after being cut off by his father. Enter: Art student Steve Rogers, otherwise known as "The Captain," one of the most powerful crime bosses in New York.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Mob Boss Steve Rogers Non Powered AU Stony Fic**

**This is my first Stony fic, so go easy on me! It is entirely self indulgent. **

**Enjoy. **

**You Have Me**

"Next?"

Tony stepped forward in line, one step closer to his beloved holy grail. After a quick glance at his watch, he blinked, realizing that he was coming up on his seventy-two hour mark of being awake. The calculations for a potential final project displayed themselves within his mind like perfect lines of code, keeping his attention from settling on anything concrete around him. Tony's brain stuttered like it always did when he went too long without sleep, and he muttered curses under his breath as he rubbed his temples. He needed coffee. He wasn't sure he could keep himself from spontaneously combusting without it.

Last night, Tony had stayed up all night, yet again, jumping between his own projects, redlining his students' completely useless papers on Thermodynamics, and completing the upcoming week's lesson plans. Tony's work on his project had doubled since he was working alone, so that didn't help either. He had the _tiniest_ tendency to give his partners (technically only two partners, because after the second one dropped out from a nervous breakdown, his professor's stopped pairing him up) whiplash. But it was Friday, which meant he just needed to get through his eleven o'clock class before he could hop on a bus to take him back to his run down apartment and pass out for two days straight.

"Next?" The barista's gum smacked audibly, and Tony didn't bother hiding his grimace at the sound.

Eyes still closed, his fingertips dug more insistent into his temples, slightly relieving the pressure that had built up. It wasn't enough though. Tony needed some caffeine in his system if he had any hope of making it through the day without tearing the heads off of one of his students for so much as _breathing_ in his direction.

"I said _next_." The annoyance lacing her tone snapped Tony's eyes open, ready to snarl at the next person in line to hurry the fuck up, but he blinked in surprise to see the barista looking at _him _impatiently, arms crossed in front of her chest.

The back of his neck warmed significantly, and he pawed at it. Tony stepped forward, cursing again as he tripped over his worn out sneakers and catching himself on the black marble counter. "Uh, right, sorry. Sorry." Tony huffed out a breath, fumbling for his wallet, held together by scotch tape. "I'll take a large black coffee with one, no, no, two shots of espresso."

The barista raised a brow, obviously not impressed with his borderline eccentricity. She put the order into the register and popped her gum again. "That will be eight ninety-five."

Tony's eyes widened as he leaned forward and shook his head. "What? No way. That's two dollars more than last week."

She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest. "They raised the prices over the weekend. Eight ninety-five."

He stared down at the crumpled five dollar bill and stained coins in his hand. He only had enough to pay for the coffee that had been six dollars and ninety-five cents for the last _four_ years, and they just _now_ decided to raise the prices? Usually, he just saved money by making the shitty stuff at home, only letting himself indulge in the coffeeshop every other Monday, but he couldn't stock back up on the bare essentials at the store until he got paid later that evening.

This was just un-fucking-believable.

The corners of his eyes prickled, and he wiped a shaky hand across his face. Tony cleared his suddenly tight throat and shook his head. "Uh, okay. Can you make it a medium coffee with just one shot of espresso?"

Her jaw twitched in frustration as she rang up the new order. "Seven fifteen, then"

His stomach dropped again, and his embarrassment flared as he thought about what a goddamn loser he looked like. Three years ago, he had enough money to buy out fifty of these fucking coffee shops, and now he was scrounging up change for a cup of coffee.

"Ah, sorry. Just the coffee then." He dropped the coins onto the counter, each one ringing too loud between his ears.

Just as the barista opened her mouth to tell him off, a deep voice sounded behind him. "Get him the large with two shots of espresso."

"What? He barely has enough to pay for-"

Tony was suddenly very aware of a mammoth presence behind him, and he automatically stiffened, keeping his eyes forward. "Throw in two blueberry muffins, a piece of pumpkin bread, and a large latte as well." The man's voice didn't leave any room to argue, so the barista nodded warily and put in the order. A large hand reached around his shoulder and dropped a twenty onto the counter, and Tony wasn't able to keep from flinching away as the open hand neared his face when it pulled back.

He tried to stomp down his embarrassment at having to be rescued like a fucking damsel in distress, sucking in enough air to feign confidence as he spun around, his brain shorting out as he did. At first, all he saw was a very broad, very muscular chest, covered in a tight grey sweater with a navy blue overcoat. His eyes traveled upwards and Tony took a hesitant step back.

The resemblance to his (secretly) beloved comic book hero, Captain America, was seriously uncanny. The strong, chiseled jaw? The wispy golden blonde hair? The striking deep blue eyes that kept you frozen in place? Plus, the man's shoulder to waist ratio was enough to make even a Victoria Secret Angel go weak in the knees.

It took Tony a few thoroughly embarrassing moments to remember his poorly ingrained manners. "I, er, thank you. I...you didn't have to do that. I was fine with just the regular coffee…" His cheeks warmed again, and he wasn't able to keep looking up at the man's expression, which was hovering between amusement and something that resembled worry.

"Don't worry about it. It kind of looks like you might need it to stay on two feet."

Tony's eyes snapped towards the floor and he held out the five dollar bill with a shaky hand. The least he could do was try to pay his knight in shining armor back. Instead of taking it though, the man lightly grabbed Tony's covered forearm and led him out of the growing line and towards an empty table. "Sit. And keep your money."

He obeyed silently, fiddling uncomfortably with a stray piece of circuitry he left in the pocket of his hoodie while the man disappeared. He returned a few seconds later, sitting down and pushing the coffee and both blueberry muffins in front of Tony. "Eat."

Tony's eyebrows shot up, and he looked up at his rescuer carefully. "Uh, what?"

The corners of the man's lips twitched. "I said you should eat. You look like you're in danger of being blown over by a stiff wind. And in this weather, that might just be a possibility."

Tony chewed on the inside of his cheek and stuffed the piece of circuitry back into his pocket. "I-You didn't have to get me anything to eat. The coffee is more than enough."

The man shrugged. "Indulge me."

Well...if he was offering…

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, finally acknowledging his lack of sustenance within the past twenty-four hours, Tony's stomach roared to life. His cheeks tinted again, and he wiped his hands across the thighs of his ripped jeans before biting off a piece of one of the muffins and swallowing down a gulp of coffee.

He hummed, his body instantly responding to the surprising meal. "Wow...thank you. Really." Tony chewed and offered his hand. "I'm Tony."

The man took his hand and squeezed it tight. It practically engulfed Tony's. "Steve."

They grinned at one another for a few moments before Tony coughed awkwardly, realizing that he probably held on for way longer than was strictly necessary. "So, what are you doing in Cambridge?"

Steve took a sip of his own drink. "I'm taking a few classes at Harvard's art school."

"You're a student?" Tony asked incredulously. He would have guessed the man was in his upper twenties judging by his height and not-so hidden muscles practically popping out of his layers.

The amused look was back. "What, you think I'm too old for that or something? I'm only twenty-five."

That was news to Tony. He couldn't help raking his eyes over the man once again, then catching himself and fighting the flinch of remembering his own father's reprimand of just exactly what he thought of Tony ogling other men. He played it off with a shrug. "I guess it's just surprising. All of my students are even younger than I am. I never pegged you as one yourself."

"Your students?" Steve asked, obviously interested.

Tony preened, just slightly. "Yeah, I'm a TA in the Engineering department at MIT. Working on getting my third doctorate right now."

Steve's brow disappeared behind his perfectly cropped hair. "That's very impressive, Tony." He leaned forward, taking a bite of his pumpkin bread and keeping his eyes on the smaller man. "If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?"

Tony thumbed his half-way empty coffee cup, trying to decide if he wanted to lie to seem older. Somehow, he thought Steve would be able to see past his bullshit. "I'll be twenty-one in a few months."

The older man didn't reply, so Tony looked up to see Steve's head tilted in thought, eyes brazenly raking across his ragged form. As he opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to break the tense silence, Steve spoke up. "Why does it look like you haven't been taking very good care of yourself?"

Tony blinked. What the hell? He narrowed his eyes, tucking his cup closer to his skinny frame and leaning back in the chair. "I take care of myself just fine, thank you very much."

Steve was silent again, until he sat up straight, somehow absorbing all of the authority in the room, commanding attention and looking impossibly bigger. Out of the corner of Tony's eye, he could see a handful of other patrons shifting uncomfortably once they noticed it as well. "Tony, that hoodie is practically hanging off of you. If I touched you, I bet that I could feel your ribs, meaning you aren't eating enough. And judging by the incident at the register, you are barely getting by on whatever the university pays you to teach. And when you do spend it, it's on coffee, not food, which means you need it to stay awake. That, combined with the circles forming under your eyes leads me to believe you aren't sleeping either. So no, I don't believe you are taking care of yourself properly."

Tony sucked in a breath, blatantly ignoring the surge of heat that hit him at the thought of Steve touching his stomach. What the fuck just happened? "How…" His gaze shifted unsteadily around the coffee shop, suddenly worried that this was all just some practical joke set up by his father and Obie to prove that Tony really couldn't survive being cut off.

The older man gave him a soft smile, dissipating his fears. "I was in the army. The 107th." He said by way of explanation. "It's sort of my prerogative to notice things."

The last thing Tony needed right now was someone looking down on him thinking he was some kind of charity case. He got enough shit from his father and Obie to last a lifetime, he didn't want to hear it from Big, Blonde, and Beautiful either. Tony silently stuffed the rest of the provided breakfast into his mouth, washing it down with the last of his coffee. He carefully placed the second muffin into his bag and wiped his hands on his jeans again. He stood up slowly, seeing that Steve was frowning at him. "I really appreciate you paying for my coffee. And for breakfast." He hitched his bag's strap over his shoulder, trying to keep his expression neutral. "I have to get to class."

As Steve stood up and put a hand out to stop him, Tony side stepped out of his reach. "And you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

He fought down the embarrassment and frustration of the last thirty minutes and braced himself against the cold.

XX

Steve watched Tony barrel out into the street without any proper winter attire with a deep frown marring his features. He wasn't sure _why _he stepped in when the younger man was having trouble paying for his coffee, or _why _he felt it was important for him to eat. And he had no idea where the hell this sudden surge of protectiveness came from either. Steve barely knew anything about this man, besides his first name and the fact that he was obviously struggling.

Maybe that was it, he thought warily to himself. Steve had a soft spot for helping out those in rough situations. It was how he became The Captain after all. Once he grew out of his sickly form and put on some serious muscle during puberty, he and Bucky had cleared Steve's old bullies off the streets. Over the past ten years, their parameters of influence had grown exponentially, spreading across Brooklyn and Queens before moving into the other Boroughs. He and his Howling Commandos were laughably unmatched when it came to fighting against those that the police couldn't touch. Steve didn't like bullies, it didn't matter where they were from, so he spent eight years of his life building up the image and reputation of the Captain in New York, silently and stealthily taking out any opponent that stepped out of the shadows.

People fear the unknown, so that's what Steve had become. Nobody ever saw his face, and if they did, they didn't live to tell the tale. You take down enough drug dealers and destroy enough sex ring operations with practically no one knowing who you are or how you did it, your reputation begins to take on a life of its own. If the rumors were to be believed, the Captain ripped out the Boss of the Valentina crime family's heart with his bare hands and mailed it to the man's brother three years ago. It was utterly ridiculous, of course. It had been his left hand, and there was definitely a saw involved. The Valentina family simply needed to learn a lesson on what happens to people who stole from homegrown businesses in his territory.

Yet another silly rumor was that just last month, the Captain burned down a warehouse that housed and sold meth to children in the neighborhood. That one was a little closer to the truth. The Howling Commandos did in fact set the warehouse ablaze under his orders, but the Captain was nowhere near Brooklyn at the time.

Two years ago, Steve decided to pursue his true passion and get an art degree. With his colorful and decorated past in the army, and the funds provided by the Howling Commandos' hundreds of scores, he was accepted on the first try, and Steve and Bucky took off for Boston, leaving Peggy in charge back home.

Steve trusted her to get the job done in his absence, and she didn't disappoint. Nobody even noticed his absence, which allowed him to build another team here in Boston without anyone becoming the wiser. The Avengers were still in their early stages, but all of the ground work had been laid. Bucky was adamant that Steve must be carrying around some kind of lucky talisman or something for him to bring five of the most talented, brilliant, and dangerous criminals with an unwavering sense of loyalty together, four hundred miles outside of New York.

He had known each of them were special from the moment he laid eyes on them. His gut instinct flared to life during each one of their initial meetings, and Steve instantly knew they had a role to play and demons to overcome. It had yet to steer him wrong, not with Bucky, not with Howling Commandos, and not with the Avengers.

And that same instinct was now practically flooding his ears as it screamed at him to run after Tony. It screamed '_Mine, mine mine._' Well, wasn't that interesting?

XX

Tony pushed his strange encounter with 'ex-army Steve' out of his mind, convincing himself that he wouldn't see him again. Why would he? It was a chance meeting. And Steve was...Steve was gorgeous. Everything he could ever want in a guy. But what would he see in Tony? Some dirt poor doctoral student who didn't have anything lined up after graduation? Of course not. Plus, someone as gorgeous as Steve probably already had a boyfriend. Or girlfriend, Tony muttered to himself. He had no evidence that Steve even liked guys, it wasn't polite to assume.

The coffee had thankfully gotten him through class, allowing him to actually explain to his students why their work was shit, rather than just leaving them to figure it out for themselves. He checked his watch as they started packing up to leave, counting down the hours until his paycheck would hit his account.

The fact that he had gone from one of the richest kids in the country to quite literally living paycheck to paycheck was more than a little demeaning. The research grants were enough to cover his tuition, _thank fucking god_, but he was on his own for everything else. Tony had begged the dean of engineering to let him teach one of the undergrad classes, throwing out the fact that his last name on the administration list and his continued work for the department would look great for the University. The only catch was that between teaching the class, his actual degree course load, and his various projects strewn across his lab at the university and random places throughout his apartment, there wasn't any time to pick up another job.

So, here he was, counting down the minutes until he could afford to buy groceries while he stepped onto the bus. Now that the caffeine from earlier that morning was no longer in his system, the migraine inched its way back between his temples. Tony leaned his head back against the cool window as the bus filled up around him. He didn't live too far off campus, but it was a long enough trip for him to get in a quick power nap.

Tony jerked awake just in time to make his stop, pushing his way past the throngs of students and passerby's. The faint stench of dried up whiskey hung in the alley as he climbed the metal staircase to his apartment, bringing back unwanted memories. He forced them down, swallowing down the conditioned fear that accompanied that smell.

He reminded himself that he was in Boston, not New York. Howard couldn't touch him here.

XX

"The kid just stepped into his apartment." Clint's voice reported through his comm unit. "Remind me why I followed him back to his place?"

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair back at their home base, lazily staring out of the discolored window pane. "I can't be sure yet, Hawkeye. Mark down the address and head back for now."

"Copy that, Captain." The faint click sounded in his ear, and Steve ground his teeth together. Tony was just a _kid_, a ridiculously smart one at that, but a kid just the same. There wasn't any reason for him to be involved in Avengers business in any way, shape, or form. So why the hell did Steve have an instinct to protect him? It didn't make any sense.

When he first asked Clint to follow Tony, the archer had thought he was a potential target. Steve had practically snarled at the man, ordering him to stand down under any and all circumstances. Clint then threw up his hands placatingly, cocking an interested eyebrow. "New recruit, then?"

Steve frowned, still trying to figure out the answer to that question. What did he see in Tony to think he could be part of the Avengers? And maybe it wasn't even that, maybe Steve just wanted to be closer to him. The kid was brilliant, that was obvious. Other than that, Steve didn't know much about him. Hopefully something would come of the intel Clint would be gathering.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a knock at the cracked door, where Bucky flexed the hand of his metal prosthetic arm open and closed again. The wiring had gone to shit, and Steve knew it caused his best friend more pain than he would even consider letting on. "We've got something you're gonna wanna see."

Steve brow furrowed in question as he stood up from behind his mahogany desk.

Bucky tilted his head towards the hallway. "Nat picked up a smuggler off the streets. Took him to the warehouse for interrogation."

"Why does that interest me?" Steve asked, not wanting to be bothered with low level mules right now.

"Because the son of a bitch has a Hydra tattoo."

Steve froze in his advance, eyes narrowing dangerously. That wasn't possible. The Howling Commandos took out the last of Hydra back in New York. His gang had spent three years of their lives wiping out the rival gang, taking considerable losses in the process. It was what put them on the map, really. Hydra was basically a terrorist organization with how feared they were throughout the Boroughs, and when they went after Bucky in retaliation for their destroyed shipments, it became personal for Steve.

So when he came face to face with Johann Schmidt, who operated under the name Red Skull, Steve didn't hesitate to make the nickname a little more accurate. While the killing had been messy, merciless, and downright barbaric, Steve didn't so much as flinch as he stared down at the man who had murdered hundreds of people, destroyed even more lives, and took his best friend's arm. The world was a safer place without someone like Johann Schmidt running around.

The collapse of Hydra solidified the Captain and his Howling Commandos' place in the mafia hierarchy. Nobody fucked with his people or his territory and got away with it.

It was a message he intended to make crystal clear here in Boston as well.

And now Bucky was telling him that the rival gang was resurfacing. Steve took two calming breaths, forcing down his desired immediate reaction of putting his fist through a wall, instead wanting to wait to take out his frustration on the Hydra scum, and set his jaw. "Take me to him."

XX

Tony groaned incoherently as the skinny metal arm poked and prodded at his side. He blinked awake, shooing away his bot's claw. "Sleepin', Dum-E."

The prodding continued until it somehow managed to get tangled into the back of his thin hoodie, so that when the bot rolled backwards, it took Tony with it. He landed on the floor with a harsh thud, spitting out curses wildly and pushing himself back onto his feet. Tony shot Dum-E a look of pure disdain, muttering promises to sell him to a community college, before checking his watch. Just past six, excellent. That meant that the money was finally deposited into his account, and he could buy some actual groceries at the store.

Tony shook off his exhaustion and stripped, stepping into the shower spray to get cleaned up before his venture out. As the water trickled over him, Tony's thoughts wandered back to Steve. The memory of his enormity over Tony had him already half-hard. When he palmed himself, he hissed in pleasure, keeping the shower-head angled so that the constant cascade of water hit him just right. Tony swallowed hard thinking about Steve's broad chest, and what it would feel like to have him pressed up against the lines of his back. He closed his eyes as he stroked himself, long, slow slides up and down. Tony's back arched as his muscles tightened in anticipation.

Thinking about Steve's crystal blue eyes, closed in ecstatic pleasure as he grunted into the back of Tony's neck, his large hands splayed across Tony's stomach and chest as he held him place. The hand on his cock tightened and sped up desperately as he thought about what it would be like to have Steve recklessly pounding into him with utter abandon and...

"_Oh fuck_." He came harder than he had in months, chest heaving as he tried to suck in some of the humid air. Tony caught his breath after a few moments, smiling lazily as his muscles loosened up again. It only took him a few extra minutes to actually get cleaned up before stepped out and wrapping a towel around his waist.

Tony brushed his teeth and pulled back on his jeans, hoping the temperature hadn't dropped anymore so that the rips in the knees could be ignored. He threw on one of his three MIT sweaters and made sure his favorite beanie was around his ears nice and tight. It wouldn't do to freeze before he could make some dinner.

It only took him about ten minutes to get to the store, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shifted from walking, lightly jogging, to a weird half-step that he didn't even know where it came from. Tony decided to forgo a cart for one of the baskets and began roaming the isles, throwing in ten bags of flavored ramen, a massive container of Folgers, and a few frozen meals and pizzas before stopping in the cereal aisle to contemplate his choice between Honey Nut O's and Fruity Floats.

"Tony?"

He spun around, eyes wide in disbelief as he watched the ex-army Captain America look alike from this morning, the subject of his shower fantasy, walk towards him. "Steve?"

If possible, the man looked even more handsome this evening. He was still sporting the tight grey sweater with the casual jeans and boots, but had switched out his nice navy overcoat for a dark green army jacket. "Funny running into you here."

Tony looked down at the box of generic cereal in his hands and felt his cheeks warm. _Of-fucking-course_ Steve had to catch him pinching pennies. _Again_. He gave an awkward chuckle, placing the box into his overflowing basket. "Yeah, funny. It's uh, good to see you again."

Steve was looking at him with an odd expression, some kind of cross between amused and fond, something Tony couldn't really understand. "It's good to see you too. Did the second shot of espresso get you through your class today?"

He blinked, not really expecting the older man to want to have a conversation with him. "Yeah, it did actually. My students thank you by the way. Apparently I was actually bearable since I had the right amount of caffeine in me."

Steve's lips tilted upwards and he shrugged, "It might have had something to do with the breakfast too. I find that my temper is about a mile shorter if I skip out on food in the morning."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at that, for some reason he just couldn't see Steve flying off the handle at all, much less because he missed out on his eggs and bacon. "I'm inclined to agree with you. I normally prioritize coffee over food though, I've learned that I can't live without it, despite what science tells me."

The man's eyes traveled to Tony's basket, and he jutted his chin towards it. "I see you're stocking up."

"The essentials." He said as a way of explanation. Tony didn't want to have to explain that eighty percent of his paycheck goes to his shitty rent, so he had to live on the rest.

Steve stepped closer, bringing his hands out of his pockets and reaching for a box of Fruity Pebbles. "One of my favorite midnight snacks. Don't tell anyone." He gave him a shit eating grin, but Tony's eyes zeroed in on his hand.

"Oh shit, Steve, you're bleeding!"

The man stiffened, looking down with wide eyes before carefully schooling his expression and hiding the hand back into his pocket. "Ah, yeah, I was. I accidentally caught it on a loose wire from a fence. I'll clean it up when I get home."

Tony frowned, wanting to insist on helping him get cleaned up, but didn't really know how he would do that here. "If you're sure…"

"I am." And that was that, Tony somehow got the impression that the conversation was no longer open for further discussion. "Say, do you have a ride home?"

Tony shrugged, "I don't have a car, I don't live too far from here, though."

Steve looked around for a moment before grinning down at him. "Why don't I give you a ride?"

He immediately shook his head, "What? No, no, I couldn't put you out like that. I'm fine walking." Tony was already half-hard talking to Steve, he couldn't imagine how much worse his body would betray him in the confined space of a car.

The older man took another step closer, and Tony could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He blinked, suddenly feeling dizzy at the nearness. "Let me do this, please? I won't be able to sleep tonight if I knew you were out there in this weather."

Tony hesitated again, completely thrown off by the outright generosity of this stranger. Semi-stranger, he guessed, since they've met twice now. And dammit, Steve just looked so _eager_. "I mean, if it will help you sleep at night...that would be great, thanks."

The megawatt smile Steve flashed him made Tony's toes curl, and he couldn't help but grin back. "I'll walk with you while you finish up."

XX

They spent the next thirty minutes or so chatting and walking around the store while Tony picked up items here and there, his hands never able to be completely still. The younger man didn't talk much, but Steve had a feeling that would change once Tony felt a little more comfortable around him, something he fully intended to pursue. He learned that Tony earned his undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering, then a masters in physics, and two doctorates in biomedical and civil engineering. Currently, he was working on completing his third and final doctorate in computer engineering.

It was _unbelievable _how smart Tony was. And he was only twenty years old.

It didn't take long for Steve to surmise that Tony was a certified genius, and a handsome one at that. He might be thin under the baggy clothes, but his caramel brown eyes were warm, crinkling on the sides when he smiled. Steve found that he couldn't help grinning back when Tony smiled at him, suddenly wanting to keep it there for as long as possible.

He took the basket when it was obvious Tony was struggling with the weight, but didn't offer to pay for the groceries when they reached the register. The flush of embarrassment painted across his cheeks was enough to tell Steve that his generosity wouldn't be appreciated here. Instead, he just carried Tony's bags to the backseat of his truck, politely ignoring the younger man's childlike inspection of the vehicle.

"Ecoboost3.5 liter V-6?" He asked as Steve opened the passenger seat door for him.

Steve wasn't really surprised that Tony knew his way around a car. With how much information was probably running through his brain, Tony probably could tear the entire truck apart and put it back together so that it ran ten times better than it originally did. "Good eye, 450 horsepower. My friends and I hunt as often as we can, so it comes in handy." When he settled into his own seat, he asked, "If you could drive any car, what would you choose?"

Tony tapped his fingers along the dash. "Probably an Audi, but nothing that's currently on the market. I could make them better."

"I kind of get the feeling that's not just you bragging." Steve huffed. "So, where am I taking you?"

"Just off Cambridge and Anderson. You know, you really didn't have to do this." Tony told him sheepishly while watching the street lamps switch on out the window.

Steve examined him out of the corner of his eye, admiring how the shadows of the setting sun danced across his face. "I wanted to. Gives me an excuse to spend a little bit more time with you."

Tony blinked, attention back on Steve. "You...want to spend more time with me?"

"Yes," He answered immediately, ignoring the rushing in his ears. Might as well go for it. He hadn't had a date in...dammit, had it really been _three years_? "I think you're swell, Tony."

That earned him an honest to God snort, which Tony tried to hide by covering up his face. "Oh my God, I can't believe you just used the word 'swell' in a real life sentence!"

Steve reached over and gave his shoulder a light shove. "Don't go makin' fun while I'm trying to compliment you."

Tony's cheeks visibly flushed, and his caramel brown eyes widened in confusion. "You really want to uh...hang out more?"

Steve paused before answering, trying to decipher what his gut instinct was telling him. Tony might be young, but five years truly wasn't that big of a difference. Considering his growing feelings were _exponentially _different from how he felt with the other Avengers, he trusted that this _was _what he actually wanted. And he did, he wanted Tony.

"I'd actually like to take you on a date." Steve decided, parking the truck outside of the shitty apartments Tony had pointed out. He turned in his seat so that he could take in Tony's deer-in-the-headlights look. "If you're okay with that, of course. If that makes you uncomfortable, I'd like to still be friends. Maybe get a cup of coffee again."

It was quiet for a few moments while Tony blinked at him, and Steve patiently waited for him to process the new information. "You actually want to go on a date with me?"

Steve smiled, pushing down his amusement at the younger man's continued confusion. "_Yes_, Tony, I really do. I think you're great. I'd love the chance to get to know you more."

"I, uh, yeah," He coughed, running a hand over his beanie. "I would, yeah, like that. A lot. Like a lot a lot."

His grin grew. "Perfect. How about I pick you up tomorrow night for dinner? Say..seven?"

"Seven. Yes. That, uh, yes. Seven sounds great." Tony stuttered, lips twitching upwards uncontrollably. It was adorable. He stepped out and grabbed his groceries from the back seat.

Steve made to open his own door, "Can I help you with those?"

Tony shook his head, the stunning grin still plastered across his face. "No please, the ride was enough. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'm in apartment three-B, if you uh, want to pick me up there."

"I'll be there." Steve confirmed, shooting the younger man a wink.

The sputtering in response was pretty good for his ego.

XX

As Steve stepped through the front door to the Avenger's base of operations, a simple, decent sized condo in Boston, Bucky met him in the hallway with a scowl on his face. "Where the hell have you been?"

He held up the bag that contained a box of Fruity Pebbles. "I went to the store. We finished off the last box a few days ago."

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, "For two fuckin' hours? Try again."

"Since when do you need to know where I'm spending my time, Buck?" Steve asked, suddenly annoyed, and pushed past him into the living room. He didn't keep second-by-second tabs on his friends and soldiers, and he expected them to give them the same courtesy.

"Since Hydra stepped onto the scene again, jerk." Bucky followed behind and dropped down onto one of the leather couches. "We don't know what kind of scale they're trying to make a comeback on. You need to be careful."

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "No one knows who I am, Buck. And since Schmidt is dead, they won't know who you are either. As long as we stop them early on, things will be fine."

Bucky frowned again, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Since when do you keep secrets, Stevie?"

Clint and Natasha chose that moment to step into the room, shaking off their winter coats. "Since he started having me tail a grad student at MIT. I thought we weren't supposed to make contact, Cap?"

They all turned to look at him, with various expressions. Bucky looked more pissed off than anything, while Clint was confused, maybe even a little hurt that Steve had inserted himself into the operation. Natasha just raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but otherwise kept her face blank.

"You're working a job? Why didn't I know about this?" His best friend demanded, scooting over so that Natasha could kick her feet up onto his lap.

Steve ground his teeth. "I'm not working a job. I'm just keeping an eye out for someone, that's all."

"Apparently he's not a potential target." Clint explained, perching himself atop the back of Steve's couch. "But we weren't supposed to make contact. What happened when you dropped him off?"

He shook his head, the frustration starting to rush unpleasantly between his ears. "Nothing happened."

"Why were you dropping him off? Why was he in your truck in the first place?" Bucky asked, his tone more than a little accusatory.

"What is this, twenty questions?" Steve bit out, nails digging into his skin to keep from snapping at his friends.

Natasha apparently had enough. "Shut up, both of you." Bucky and Clint quieted down immediately. "Cap has a date, that's all."

A few moments of silence before a new voice entered the mix. "Steve, you have a date?"

He looked up to see Bruce Banner standing in the archway that led to the kitchen, holding a small plastic bowl and popping a grape into his mouth. Bruce was the newest member of the Avengers and a genius in his own right.

Steve sighed, unhappy that he wasn't able to keep this to himself for just a few more hours. "Fine, you vultures, yes. I have a date. No, I don't want to talk about it, and no, Clint, you can't stop watching him. Not yet, anyway."

"I'm confused, why are having Clint stalk your date?" Bruce asked, offering his grapes to the rest of the team. Bucky and Natasha each grabbed a vine for themselves.

He shrugged, leaning back into the cushion and picking up the remote control. "I have this feeling, is all."

Apparently, that was enough of an explanation for his friends. They all gave "oh's, and ah's," before finally shutting up and settling in to watch television.

Steve let the show run on for about five minutes before he spoke up in his Captain's voice.

"Clint?"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Get your ass back to work."

A small groan, and Steve felt the weight from the top of the couch disappear. "Yeah, boss."

XX

Tony practically threw his groceries into their designated places in the pantry and fridge before pulling out his cell phone and starfishing onto the bed. The ringer on the other line only sounded twice before she picked up. "Hello?"

"Pep. Pepper-Pot. Love of my life."

She sighed, "What do you want, Tony? I'm finishing up a paper."

"I need you to throw that laptop out of your second story window, then come over here (bring ice cream) and dish about what the hell just happened."

Pepper laughed, a clear, beautiful sound that Tony always loved. "And what the hell just happened?

He still couldn't believe it himself. Tony ran a hand over the grin stretched across his face. "I have a _date_. Someone asked _me_ on a date."

Tony could hear a surprised, "oh," then the sound of a laptop closing. "That's wonderful, Tony! I'll be there in twenty." The line clicked off, and he wasn't able to keep from wriggling a little in his bed. So what? No one was around to see it. An adonis of a man, his very own Captain America look alike wanted to go out with him! Former billionaire extraordinaire! Not that Steve knew that, of course.

He hoped that they could avoid the whole "Stark" issue as long as possible. Admitting that his father cut him off was embarrassing enough, but admitting to his ex-army date that his family was responsible for the deaths of thousands of people overseas? That was going to be an impossible conversation if they ever came to it. Tony had no interest in taking up the mantle of "The Merchant of Death," and hoped to never be associated with it again.

Pepper finally arrived, decked out in sweatpants, a hoodie, and the goofy long Star Wars socks Tony had gotten her for Christmas, with the ice cream in tow. She pulled out two spoons and knocked their shoulders together on the bed. "Okay, tell me everything. I don't want any detail left out."

So Tony told her about their two chance meetings, about Steve's broad shoulders, his thin waist, what Tony guessed he looked like underneath those layers of clothing. "I'm not joking here, Pep. I honest to God believe that he's got abs of steel. Ones that I wouldn't hesitate licking this ice cream here off of."

She rolled her eyes fondly at him, pulling the spoon from her mouth. "He sounds mouthwatering, Tony. Jim will be jealous, I haven't heard you gush about another guys since you were living together."

Tony snorted and stole a bite. "Rhodeybear will just have to deal with being bumped down to the number two man in my life for the time being. Serves him right for running off and leaving me."

"He joined the air force, Tony."

"Exactly! My best friend would rather sweat his balls off in the middle of a desert and eat sardines from a can than live with me!"

They both laughed together when Pepper nearly pushed him off the bed. "Okay, first, your best friend is right here. We competed for the title, and I won since I have to continue dealing with you on a daily basis. Second, Jim will be so excited for you. Do you want to give him a call?"

Tony's mood suddenly soured, and he leaned back against the wall. "Nah, I don't want to mention anything."

Pepper purses her lips. "And why not?"

He shrugged, and she sighed before setting the ice cream down onto the nightstand and putting her arm around him. Tony snuggled into her touch, like always. "Talk to me."

Tony was silent for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. "I mean, I just don't want to tell him about Steve yet. What happens if he changes his mind? Or doesn't like me after our date?"

"Why do you think he wouldn't like you after your date?"

He snorted again, but this time it was more self-degrading than anything. "Is that a trick question? You've met me, Pep. You, Rhodey, and Bruce are the only ones who can even stand to be around me. Plus, there's the whole, I'm completely broke, thing. Oh, and to top it all off, my dad is one of the biggest War Profiteers in the country. Mainly because of _my _designs."

Pepper held him a little tighter, and he appreciated the comfort. "You are wonderful, Tony. Just the way you are. And if Steve can't see that, then that's his loss." She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Just try to give him a chance, okay? He seems like a really nice guy."

Tony took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks Pep."

XX

When Steve climbed the stairs to Tony's apartment, he couldn't say he was in the best mood. He was excited to see Tony again, that much was certain. But Clint reported that a redhead had entered the apartment last night, and he hasn't seen her leave. Which meant that she was still there.

Who the hell was she? And why was she in Tony's apartment? Was she a roommate? A girlfriend? A one night stand? The question was killing him.

It didn't make sense for Steve to be jealous. They hadn't even gone on their first date yet, he had no claim over Tony. Unfortunately, his gut was telling him differently. For some reason, Tony was _his_. And only his. This redhead couldn't have him, and he enjoyed fantasizing about ways to clear her out of the picture if it came to that. Also, what kind of person got picked up from their date while their one night stand was still in the vicinity?

He just needed to knock on the damn door already. Just as he raised his knuckles to do just that, the door swung right open, revealing a freshly showered, freshly trimmed, and incredibly handsome Tony. "Hi! I uh, saw you walk up from the window. And then I was waiting for you to knock, but then you didn't, and I got nervous. People have said that I'm impatient. Uh, yeah. So here we are. Hi."

Steve blinked, still taking in the sight of his date. The redhead he had been expecting popped around the corner, her hands on Tony's shoulders as if to calm his nerves. "He's just a little excited, if you can't tell."

A rush of anger poured over him as she held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Pepper. Tony's best friend."

And would you look at that? Anger dissipated. He gave her an easy smile and shook it. "I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you."

Tony frowned, looking between them. "Pep, you can't just go around claiming that title. Now I'm going to have to hear an earful from Rhodey."

She shrugged happily, giving him a kiss on the cheek and pushing him out the door towards Steve. "He's not here to defend it, so It's mine now."

"It's nice to meet you Pepper. I'll have him back by eleven."

Pepper lit up, clutching her hands together. "Such a gentleman. Please make sure Tony remembers every single detail about your date so that I can live vicariously through him. Have fun!"

When she closed the door, Steve looked down at Tony and couldn't stop the grin that automatically appeared. "Hi." Before he lost his confidence, Steve dropped a kiss on his cheek, directly over Pepper's. There. All was right in the world.

Tony gave him a sheepish smile, and scratched at the back of his neck. "Hi. So that's Pepper. She's a menace hell bent on embarrassing me in front of as many people as possible. I tried to push her out the door before you got here, but she insisted on seeing you in person."

"I like her," Steve told him honestly. As long as she wasn't romantically interested in Tony, he liked the idea of Tony having such great friends.

That earned him another smile, and Steve took his hand, enjoying the way it fit perfectly with his own. "So, where are we going?"

"I thought we could go to this little pizzeria that I know. And then after I wanted to take you to LA Burdick."

Tony squeezed his hand and looked up. "That sounds great, Steve."

And it _was _great. It took approximately ten minutes and thirty-three seconds into their date for Steve to realize that spending time with Tony had quickly become one of his favorite things in the world. Once they moved past the shy, awkward tension of the "first date," Tony completely opened up. He was brilliantly animated when talking about his life, describing his current projects, what he had his students working on in class, all about his friends Pepper Potts and James Rhodes. Steve filed away every bit of information Tony divulged, along with the tells that he didn't speak aloud. Like the fact that he liked pepperoni and sausage on his pizza, and picked off the olives. When he was cold, the shiver started in his chest and spread outward, causing him to stuff his hands into his pockets until Steve removed his own coat and put it around his shoulders. His laugh was bright and open, reminding him of the bells Christmas Carollers lugged around. The fact that Tony's eyes matched the hot chocolate he was currently sipping on.

"So what did you do before you started art school?" he asked, breaking Steve out of his open admiration.

Steve coughed, keeping as close to the truth as possible. That was the trick to lying. "I joined the army right after high school with my best friend Bucky. When we got back, we ran around, getting into trouble with our friends until I decided to move here."

Tony leaned in, his elbow on the table and a fond expression on his face. Steve's chest warmed at the knowledge that that look was directed at him. "Bucky has been with me since I was scrawny. I got into a lot of fights as a kid, and couldn't actually hold my own. He was my muscle until I gained my own. Then he just became my partner in crime."

His date snorted, covering up his mouth. "I can't even begin to imagine you skinny. Are you shitting me right now?"

Steve held up his right hand. "Honest to God. You can ask Buck, I was _maybe _one hundred pounds soaking wet."

"Oh, I will be demanding pictures. This is something I have to see." Tony laughed and held his mugs between his hands. "Who's next?"

Steve leaned back in his chair, letting his knees knock against Tony's underneath the table. The touch sent a rush of heat straight down his spine, and he was pleased when his date didn't move away. "Well, my friends back home were all in my unit in the army. When I moved here, I met Clint and Natasha. A former circus performer and a ballerina, if you can believe it. Sam is a vet as well, he runs a few groups at the VA. And Thor-"

"Wait, you have a friend named Thor?" Tony asked incredulously, his brow popped.

He shook his head, "Yes, he's from Norway. Now how the hell do you do that thing with your eyebrows? Nat can do it, and I've always wanted to."

Tony reached over and placed his hand near Steve's face, pausing just before to silently ask for permission to touch. Steve nodded and leaned forward. Tony's fingertips brushed against him before pushing his left eyebrow upwards. He chuckled under his breath, which had started to become uneven. "Just like that."

Steve swallowed, and watched Tony's eyes follow the movement. The atmosphere suddenly switched from fun and lighthearted to..._heated_. He didn't pull his hand away, so Steve grabbed it with his own and intertwined their fingers, pressing a light kiss to his date's knuckles. "I've had a really nice time tonight, Tony. May I take you out again?"

The younger man swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, and dammit if that didn't go straight to Steve's cock. "Me too. Tonight's been...great." His caramel brown eyes locked with Steve's again, and the intense moment passed into something sweeter. "Really, really great. I want to see you again."

Steve turned Tony's palm over and rested his lips there. "Then you'll see me again. Tell me about you, Tony. What did you do before you came to MIT?"

Tony stiffened under his touch, and Steve fought the instinct to pull away, wanting Tony to feel comfortable talking to him. "I uh." His bottom lip was now caught between his teeth, and Steve figured they had just stumbled onto some new territory. "I guess I lived at home. I was supposed to work at our family business after my first degree, but I just…" Tony looked away. "I didn't want to. My dad didn't like that. He didn't like a lot of things about me, I guess. He cut me off."

Steve remembered how Tony had flinched yesterday at the coffee shop when his hand got too close to his face. A flash of white hot fury hit him at the thought of anyone hurting this man.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. _

Instead of voicing his thoughts and sounding like a complete lunatic, Steve tightened his hold on Tony, providing some level of comfort. "I'm sorry, Tony. You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself, though. You are going to do amazing things one day."

His date preened a little, accepting the praise. That seemed to raise his spirits, and he moved on from speaking about his past. "When I finish out my last degree, I want to start a new company. There is so much untapped potential when it comes to clean energy."

"Tell me more," Steve encouraged. And Tony did. In fact, he didn't stop talking for another hour and a half, and Steve loved every second of it.

He glanced down at the clock and swore lightly. He began to stand, pulling Tony up with him. "I need to get you home before curfew," he teased, "I don't want Pepper to keep you from our next date."

To his immense pleasure, Tony slotted himself into Steve's space and wrapped an arm around his waist, maneuvering Steve's arm up over his shoulder.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. _

"I'd fight to the last tooth and nail with her, but I have the feeling that I would have better luck just trying to climb down the fire escape."

Steve hummed, enjoying the sudden closeness. He kissed the top of Tony's hair, tightening his grip on his date's hand. "Don't worry, I'd do the fighting for the both of us."

"You look like you'd be able to hold your own." There was a wicked gleam in Tony's eye as he hopped into the passenger seat of the truck, back facing the interior so that his legs hung out of the open door, and Steve smirked at how close to the money Tony was.

Feeling confident, Steve leaned forward, capturing Tony's mouth with his own and slotting himself in between his legs. It was tentative at first, but Tony's lips molded to his own immediately, and his hands snakes up and around Steve's neck and entangled themselves into his hair.

Steve took advantage, pressing himself as close to Tony as space would allow and raking his nails along the back of his jacket. Tony moaned, a guttural sound that sent Steve reeling. Possessiveness blossomed deep within his chest, eliciting a growl of pleasure. He probed Tony's lips with his tongue, licking his way inside when they opened beautifully for him.

It was...it was, it was _everything_. He was completely surrounded by Tony. His desperate breath hitching right along with Steve's, his tongue wrestling with his own, his hands clambering over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach...

It was their first date, and Steve never wanted to take his hands off of him. But that was the problem, wasn't it?

Through sheer force of will, Steve pulled back and touched his forehead to Tony's, stilling his hands as they fumbled with Steve's belt. Tony whined at the loss, mouth chasing after Steve's.

They were both panting hard, heavy breaths mixing together through the proximity. "I, uh." He started, gently caressing Tony's face, fingertips outlining his trimmed beard and trying to renew the blood flow to his brain. "I need to get you home."

Tony stared at him for a few long moments, trying to catch his breath. He finally leaned away and looked down into his lap where his hands were shaking. Steve didn't hesitate to cover them with his own. "Did...did I do something wrong?"

Steve blinked and cocked his head. "What? Why would think you did anything wrong?"

The younger man chewed on the inside of his cheek, a faint blush rising up the back of his neck. "You...well you stopped. Do, do you not want me?"

Steve captured Tony's face between his hands, tilting his head up so that he had to look into Steve's eyes. "That might be the most absurd thing I have ever heard. Tony, _of course_ I want you. But sweetheart, this is only our first date. I want to do this right. So, I'm going to bring you home, walk you to your door, kiss you good night, and then I'll pick you up for our next date tomorrow." He kissed Tony again, softly this time. They both hummed at the contact, and Steve's eyes fluttered. "Does that sound okay?"

Tony nodded slowly, breathing in deeply as if memorizing the smell of Steve around him. Finally, he swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. "Uh, yeah. I think I can handle that."

"I do want you, Tony." Steve implored.

The younger man smiled sweetly. "Then you'll have me."

XX

When Tony slipped through the door after an incredibly long and mind blowingly _hot _goodbye makeout session with Steve (holy heaven on EARTH than man knows how to use his tongue), he slumped against the frame and sighed in complete and utter bliss.

Pepper scurried around the corner, socks slipping on the hardwood floors. "Tony!" She had an open bottle of wine in her hands and a brilliant smile on her face. "How did it go? Tell me literally everything. Are you going to see each other again? Was he nice? Did you kiss him? Please tell me you kissed him!"

Tony cut off her twenty-questions by ramming into her full force with a hug, careful not to spill any of the wine. "Pep...I'm in love. He's perfect. And he likes me. And he's perfect."

She laughed brightly, tugging him over towards the couch. "So it went well?"

He exaggerated a groan and rested his head atop her lap. "So well, Pep. He's picking me up after class tomorrow."

"I'm so happy for you, Tony!" She reached down and pressed a light kiss to his temple. "Now can we call Jim?"

Tony rubbed both hands over his face, not the least bit surprised to find a smile still there. "Yeah, now we can call Rhodey."

XX

Steve was still sitting in his truck outside of Tony's apartment when his phone went off. Without taking his eyes off of the building, he answered. "What is it, Nat?"

"If you're finished with your date, we could use you down here. We're at the warehouse. Barnes brought in three more members of Hydra."

His jaw locked immediately, and Steve put the truck in drive. "I'm on my way."

Thirty minutes later, he had his arms crossed over his chest while watching Natasha in her Black Widow mask interrogate the three Hydra members from behind the two-way mirror. Bucky huffed by his side. "Found 'em staking out the Weapons Depot on Fifth. Haven't gotten them to spill anything yet. Nat extracted a cyanide tooth from two of the fuckers. Looks like the third is too green for something like that."

"If they're in need of weapons, then they must not be very high off the ground yet."

"Good thing too," Bucky agreed, scratching at his stubble. "They must just be focusing on increasing their numbers for now."

Steve watched Natasha prowl in front of the three younger men. Their eyes were wide and terrified. They must have heard rumors about the Black Widow. Good. Maybe the Avengers' reputation was climbing quicker than he thought.

"We need to make an example out of them." Steve decided. "Whoever is digging them out of their grave needs to know that The Avengers will stop them. This is our territory now."

He looked over to see Bucky smirking knowingly at him. "I bet Tony would love to hear your "Captain" voice."

If possible, Steve's mood darkened further. "Tony isn't a part of this, Buck. I don't want him anywhere near Avengers business."

"Really?" Bruce asked, stepping through the steel doors. "I thought Tony was smart. Do you not think he would make a good addition to the team?"

He shook his head, flexing his hands by his sides. "Tony is...good. I want him to stay out of this." And he did. Tony was incredible. A light. _Steve's _light. He was too innocent to be mixed up with Steve's gang. His business was dirty, and he wanted to keep Tony as clean as possible.

"We do good here, Stevie." Bucky implored, jutting his chin towards the men in the room. "We keep the streets clean, tear down any drug operations, put down any fuckers who try to mess with our people. The Avengers keep people safe."

"I know, Buck." Steve sighed, not knowing how to explain this to his friends. "Tony's got plans for after he graduates. Big plans. He's going to change the world, I know it. He doesn't need to get caught up with the mafia on the way there. So no, I'm not going to recruit him, and I don't want to hear about this again."

The silence in the room was enough of an answer for him. Steve nodded towards Bucky and turned on Natasha's comm unit. "Nat, fall back. It's the Winter Soldier's turn. I want them to know exactly who they are dealing with."

Bucky shrugged off his jacket so that his metal arm wasn't covered, then attached his facemask. It completely obscured his identity, but revealed him as the same man from New York. the Captain's attack dog.

The moment he stepped inside the room, Steve watched the two seasoned Hydra members blanch. The blood drained from their faces, and they immediately began squirming in their seat. The third, the one that was too green for a cyanide pill, looked confused at his buddies' reactions. Steve clicked on the intercom, puffing out his chest and using his best "Captain" voice.

"Hydra believes they can crawl out of their long buried grave and rise up in Boston. They are wrong. The Captain knows all, and sees all. You won't give up your superiors, I know your kind too well. But you can pass along a message for me. Tell your boss that the same Captain who ended the Red Skull's life with his bare hands will do the same to you. Hydra thinks they can regain strength? Regain numbers? They are wrong."

The three men were practically vibrating in fear in their seats, but Steve wasn't finished yet.

"Soldier." He called, and Bucky tilted his head to acknowledge that he was listening. "How many men does it take to deliver a message?"

The Winter Soldier flexed his metal arm, letting the light from the fluorescent lamp gleam off of it. "One."

XX

"Tony."

"Rhodey."

An amused grunt sounded on the other line. "_Tony_. I'm being serious here!"

"Me too! I don't see any problem with this." Tony bit his bottom lip and willed for Rhodey to see reason.

But, alas, he just wouldn't give it up. "You have to tell the man your damn name. You've been going out for what, four months now? He's your boyfriend. You _lied _to your _boyfriend_."

"Nu uh!" Tony protested, desperately trying to ignore the sinking guilt in his stomach. "It wasn't technically a lie when I told him my last name was Carbonell. That was my mother's name. The only time I used 'Stark' is when I enrolled into the University."

"Tones. Man, you're my best friend, but you can be a total pain in the ass, you know that, right?" Before Tony could make one of the sexual jokes stored up in his piggy bank, Rhodey cut him off with a growl. "And if you say _one _word about Steve being a pain in your ass, I will fly back to Boston and dump you into a cold shower."

The genius pouted, "Fine, but as long as the message got across, I still win."

"Tell the man the damn truth, Tones. You'll be fine. He still likes you after all this time, right? I can't imagine that your family history will be that much of a red flag."

Tony sighed dramatically, hating that he could see the logic in Rhodey's words. "Fine, you win. I'll tell him the truth on our date tonight."

He could practically hear the other man grinning and patting himself on the back on the other line. "That's my boy. Now outside of the whole 'Steve is the center of my universe' thing you've got going on, how's everything else?"

At that, Tony squirmed a little on the couch. He shouldn't mention anything. It was nothing. "I, uh, nothing. Everything's fine."

Rhodey paused. "Why did that sound like a total bullshit answer? What else is going on?"

Tony shrugged, then remembered it wasn't a video call. "Nothing's going on, like I said, everything's fine. I'm just being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Explain."

"Fine…" Tony turned on his side to watch Dum-E and U play tug-of-war with a dog's rope he got from the grocery store. "I just, I don't know. I have this feeling like...someone's watching me, or something."

Rhodey didn't reply for a few long moments, and Tony went right back to squirming uncomfortably. "Do you think it's your dad? Or Stane?"

He appreciated that one of his best friends had his back, despite how crazy it all sounded. "I don't know. I mean they could be watching, waiting for me to screw up so that they can convince me to come back to SI, but I don't know. My neck prickles uncomfortably like, all the time now. Even with I'm with Steve."

"If it is your dad, would he do anything if he knew about Steve?"

Tony's brow furrowed, and the churning in his stomach grew into an uncomfortable pit. "Maybe. No. I don't know. He _hated_ that I was gay, ya know? It gave him another reason for cutting me off. I honestly don't know if there was anything else he could do at this point."

A faint cracking sounded on the other line, and Rhodey muttered under his breath. "Well, just be careful, alright Tones? Pepper told me about how one of the New York gangs showed up there in Boston."

"Yeah," he frowned. When the papers reported Hydra had taken credit for a recent bombing, he hadn't wanted to believe it. Especially considering that the gang had somehow gotten hold of SI weapons when they were back in New York. "Hydra's back, and I've been hearing a few rumors that they're in a gang war with this group called the Avengers." It was times like these when he missed the Captain and his Commandos. Tony had practically worshiped them when he still lived in Manhattan.

"Stay out of that mess, okay? I need you safe while I'm over here."

Tony couldn't help but grin, always happy to hear that he actually meant something to someone. It wasn't that he necessary _needed_ for people to reconfirm his worth, but it would be a lie to say that it wasn't fantastic for his ego. "I'm staying out of it, Rhodeybear, I promise. Besides, Steve is big enough to protect us both if any sort of shit like New York goes down."

Rhodey gave a hearty laugh at that. "That's what I like to hear. I've gotta go, but stay out of trouble. Love you Tones."

"Love you too. Stay safe."

XX

When Steve knocked on the door the very next night, Tony was in the middle of mussying up his hair on accident. He wasn't nervous. He _wasn't_. Steve would be okay with his last name...right?

Oh sweet lord, he hoped so. Steve had come to mean _everything_ to Tony over the past few months. They hadn't said the words yet, but Tony didn't doubt that Steve loved him. The older man showed him that he did every day, in the way that he treated Tony, in the way that he handled him like he was something precious.

Tony was terrified of losing him.

He answered the door, and was immediately met with Steve's lips on his. Tony gasped at the intrusion, but was quick to melt into the kiss. This was how it always was with them, straight heat and fireworks sizzling at every inch of where their bodies connected. He wasn't sure how he had survived this long without this. Without Steve. After a few more seconds, Steve caressed the spot where his hands were cupping Tony's face and he pulled back. "Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good day?"

Tony hummed, drawing out of his lust-filled haze like he was sixteen years old again. "Yeah, missed you though."

Steve smirked, kissing him chastely on the lips again. "I'm right here. I missed you too, Mr. Carbonell."

When Tony stiffened, Steve's brow furrowed as he stepped away, immediately putting his hands to his side. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

Tony groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, waving towards Steve dismissively. "No, no. I just…" He moved back into his apartment, beckoning Steve to follow. "I need to talk to you about something. Can you come in?"

Steve nodded warily, automatically on guard with his back as straight as a board. He got like that sometimes, when the mood changed or when he felt like Tony might be in trouble. Steve would draw up to his full height, posing quite the intimidating figure that practically screamed '_Do not fuck with me_,' and slot Tony behind him, scanning the room or area for potential threats.

"At ease, soldier," Tony told him seriously, because it always seemed to work wonders. Immediately, some of the tension left Steve's shoulders, but he his jaw was still tight. "I'm sorry to ruin any plans you might have had, but it's important." He gestured towards the couch. "Come on, sit down."

His (utterly hot) mountain of a boyfriend practically took up the entire couch when he laid out his arms along the back, so Tony made himself comfortable on the armrest in case Steve wanted to punch him after this.

Steve apparently didn't like that, because he frowned. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." At the disbelieving look, Tony repeated himself. "I'm fine, Steve. I promise. We just need to talk about a few things."

"Famous last words…" his boyfriend pouted, sinking further into the couch.

Tony startled at that, eyes going wide. "What? No!" he shook his head, "I'm not breaking up with you! But you might not want anything to do with me after I say what I have to..."

Steve scooted closer to him on the couch and took one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. "Just talk to me, sweetheart."

He nodded, working himself up to it. "Right, okay. So when you got here, you, uh, you called me something. Mr., uh, Carbonell."

Steve cocked his head in confusion, "Yeah...because that's your name." He said slowly.

Tony gave him a sheepish smile. "Well, in some sense of the word, you are right. But in another, much more realistic sense, you're wrong. My last name isn't Carbonell."

He could feel the moment went Steve's defenses shot up. His boyfriend bristled underneath his touch, but he didn't move away, so Tony counted that as a win. "I think you should explain. Now."

"Carbonell was my mother's maiden name." Tony licked his lips, working himself up for it. "My last name is actually Stark."

Steve didn't move for a long few seconds, and Tony could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he put all the pieces together. "You're Anthony, _Tony_, Stark. Of Stark Industries. Your father cut you off a few years ago because you didn't want to come work for the family business…" His crystal blue eyes snapped up to Tony's. "Because you didn't want to make weapons."

"Got it in one." Tony breathed, happy to finally have it all out there. "I started at MIT when I was fifteen. Once I got my undergraduate degree, then my masters, my dad and Obie, Obadiah Stane, tried to get me to come back." He swallowed past the lump in his throat that always appeared when he talked about this. "But I didn't want to. I didn't want to become the Merchant of Death. I had seen how many people were killed from my earlier designs, which were taken without my permission, by the way, and I didn't want to add to the tally count."

He let out a self deprecating laugh and ran his free hand over his face. "It didn't help that he caught me with a guy when he came here to try and talk some sense to me. He had suspected I was gay before that, but I guess it's different when the evidence is right in front of your face." A shiver ran down his spine as he fought to keep from touching the scars that Howard's rings had left. "He basically told me that if I didn't get my ass out of Boston and stop all of this shit, then I would never see another penny from him."

"So you told him where he could shove it, and your dad cut you off." Steve finished for him.

Tony sighed and nodded, suddenly exhausted. Steve moved closer, wrapping his arms around Tony's waist and pulling him squarely into his lap so that they were chest to chest and Ton's legs bracketed Steve's hips. He cupped the younger man's face between his big hands and pressed a deep, long, lingering kiss there before pulling back and resting their foreheads together. Tony breathed in Steve's sweet, soft pants.

"Thank you for telling me. But Tony, none of this changes how I feel about you. If anything, it helps me understand you better." He kissed his left cheek, "You're still a genius," a kiss on the right cheek, "that's going to make the world a better place with clean energy," and a final kiss back onto his trembling lips. "And you're mine."

Tony's arms snaked around Steve's neck and held him tight, fingers slotting themselves between Steve's fine blonde hair. "I love you." Without pausing to take a breath to think about what he was saying, he continued. "Dammit, _I love you_, Steve. You're perfect. You're a good man. You take care of me. You don't care about my shitty family and my crappy past, and you don't mind that I'm dirt poor and have been in school for like, five and a half years now and -"

Steve cut him off with a searing kiss, plundering his tongue into Tony's mouth and grinding Tony's hips down onto his mounting erection. "Oh fuck, Tony, I love you too. I love you so much, sweetheart."

And then they were both suddenly too caught up in the movement of their bodies together to say much else. He writhed on top of Steve, movements erratic and desperate. Steve, the real genius in this relationship, got control of his hands for a moment to reach under to grab handfuls of Tony's ass and lift them up in one fluid motion. Tony squeaked and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist, clinging to him without pausing his assault on his boyfriend's neck. The mixture of lemon-scented soap and the faint hint of sweat swirled around Tony's tongue, and he nipped a harsh bruise with his teeth, marking Steve as his own.

The guttural moan Steve let out had Tony trembling in his arms, hands clawing desperately at his back. When they reached the bed, Steve unlatched from Tony for only a few moments to reach up and pull Tony's sweater off of him before moving to make quick work of his pants. Thankfully, Steve didn't seem to be in any mood for a tease, because he stripped just as quickly. The moment skin met skin, they both hissed in heated pleasure.

Tony hauled Steve up to capture his mouth again, aligning their bodies perfectly so that they arched against each other. Their tongues danced together, each memorizing the feeling of the other, and dammit Tony could have come right then in there. Steve pulled back, propping himself onto his elbows over Tony. "I do love you, Tony. You mean...everything to me. I want to keep you safe. I want you. _I want you_."

"You have me. Always."

Their mouths met again, and this time they didn't come up for air for a few more hours.

XX

The next morning, Tony blinked slowly from where his head was resting atop Steve's perfectly sculpted chest. This is what heaven must be like, Tony mused. To be so wrapped up in the person you love that the rest of the world just falls away, leaving the two of you basking in heat and pleasure. He hummed when Steve's fingers carded their way through Tony's hair, and he buried his face closer to his boyfriend.

"Tony?" Steve's voice was rough, most likely from the weight of the cock that had taken up temporary residence in his throat earlier that night.

"Mhhmmm?" Tony was too wrung out to respond with actual words. Every muscle in his body was sated and fully relaxed. Steve's other hand came down to draw patterns along his back, side, and stomach. Over the past four months, Steve really had taken care of Tony. His ribs were no longer visible, his skin had returned to it's natural healthy olive tone, and his underlying muscles had found their way back to just beneath the surface.

The fingers in his hair dug a little into his scalp, and Tony moaned in satisfaction. "Thank you for telling me the truth. I can't imagine that it was easy for you."

Tony nodded his head up and down, letting his thin goatee scrape against Steve's sensitive skin, causing the older man to let out a hiss. He furrowed his brow as a familiar prickle started traveling along the back of his neck.

"It really means a lot that you would trust me with that. Because, well, there's something I need to talk to you about too. Something I've been meaning to tell you-"

But Tony wasn't listening. Instead, he pushed himself up so that he was sitting, rubbing a hand across his neck to try and chase away the feeling. "Do you feel that?"

Steve's brow furrowed, and he sat up so that his back was leaning against the wall. He ran his nails softly along Tony's back. "Feel what, sweetheart?"

Tony was becoming more and more agitated. The tingling was uncomfortable now, and he couldn't stop himself from craning his neck to look around the room. "Like...like someone is watching us."

Quicker than he could comprehend, a large hand snaked across Tony's waist and hauled him back towards Steve's chest before lifting the comforter so that it was covering them both. Tony squirmed a little, but to no avail. There was no escaping his boyfriend's grip, which was incredibly hot and he filed that information away for later, but the mood had soured. "Steve, forget it. I'm just being paranoid."

"How long have you felt like this, Tony?" He asked quietly, as if afraid someone might be listening in. Which was completely ridiculous...wasn't it? Howard and Obie couldn't actually be watching him, much less be listening in on him. They didn't care about him enough to do something so outlandish.

"I…" he thought back, a little confused at how protective Steve was being right now. "It's nothing, really. It's stupid."

In one single movement, Steve had rolling them over so that they were chest to chest with Steve lying on top of Tony. His entire body was coiled tight, every muscle locked as he stared down at Tony. "I need you to tell me how long you've been feeling like someone's been watching you, sweetheart. It's important."

He had no idea why the hell this was so important to Steve, but he didn't dare try to argue again. This was a man on a mission. "I don't know, a few months now? It started around January. But it wasn't...I don't know. I didn't start feeling _this _way, nervous, maybe? Scared? No, that's not the right word. Anyway, I didn't start feeling like _this _until last month."

And then Steve was moving. He rolled off of Tony and out of bed, quickly shucking on underwear and throwing Tony's clothes at him so that he could do the same. "Get dressed."

"What? Why?" Tony asked, completely thrown off by Steve's sudden change in demeanor. He threw on his jeans before stuffing his feet into the boots that were strewn across the room. Tony couldn't put a finger on exactly what had changed. But this Steve was more...army-like? Commanding? If Tony was anyone else, he would have followed along blindly. "Where the hell are you going?"

Once Steve got on his button up, he pulled Tony's backpack from the closet and started throwing clothes into it. "We are going back to my place."

"Hey!" He protested as Steve emptied his underwear drawer into the bag. Tony grunted in annoyance and started dressing quickly as well. "You've never taken me to your place before! Why are we all of a sudden running there now?"

Apparently once Steve was satisfied that he had piled enough clothes into the bag, he moved into the bathroom to grab the toiletries. "Steve!"

Tony cornered him inside the bathroom as Steve grabbed the razor from the shower. "Tell me what the hell is going on!"

His boyfriend drew up to his full height, hiked the bag up over his shoulder and advanced on Tony. Steve placed both hands on Tony's shoulders and gripped them tight. "There's a lot I need to explain to you, and I will, I promise. But right now, I need to get you back to my place where there are more people there that can protect you."

"Protect me? Steve, I'm fine!" Tony shook his head, throwing Steve's hands off of him as he stepped back into the bedroom. "Is this about me thinking someone is watching me? It's stupid! I'm just being paranoid!"

"Your not just being paranoid!" Steve snapped in a way that had Tony reeling. Steve had never even raised his voice at him before. "I'm trying to protect you, Tony, so I need you to listen to me very carefully." He must have taken in the hurt expression on Tony's face, because the hard lines marring his handsome features softened and he stepped forward and cupped his cheeks. "Sweetheart, I love you. I'm asking you to trust me right now, okay? Please, put on your shoes, follow me out to my truck, and I'll take you back to my place. You'll finally get to meet my friends. You've been wanting to do that, right?"

If Tony had been confused before, he was absolutely floored now. He had a million and one questions running through his mind, not the least of which was '_What the hell is going on_?' He wanted to know why they were going to meet Steve's friends now, when Tony had practically been begging to meet them for the past few months. And why did he have to pack almost everything Tony owned, like he would be gone for a while?

But he stayed quiet instead. Tony simply nodded, eyes narrowing at Steve as he put on his shoes, just like Steve asked. Tony was a genius, and he was smart enough to know that Steve was hiding something, and if he pressed now, Tony wouldn't get anything out of him. No, he would bide his time. Take in all the information and variables, then gather enough evidence to shove it back into Steve's face so that he would be forced to answer his questions.

When he complied, Steve gave him a little smile that Tony didn't reciprocate, then a swift kiss on the cheek. He then took his hand and led him out of the apartment, watching carefully as Tony locked up, then ushered him into the truck. The air between them was taunt and sharp, such a monumental contrast from how it had been last night. Neither of them spoke, and Tony crossed his arms protectively over his chest and leaned against the window. He had no fucking clue what had gotten into Steve, but he didn't like it. This version of his boyfriend was...cold. Commanding. Tony wasn't insecure enough to think that Steve's feelings for him had changed, but he began to suspect that he didn't quite know everything there was to know about Steve Rogers.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to a decent sized condo and Steve shouldered Tony's overflowing backpack again before taking his hand. Tony wanted to rip it away and demand that Steve explain what the hell they were doing here, but it would be like talking to a brick wall.

As Steve led him through the door, Tony tried to take in his surroundings and picture Steve living here. It was...not what he expected. There aren't any pictures on the walls, or anything personal whatsoever to suggest that not one, but three people lived here. A few months ago Steve had told him that he, Bucky, and Sam all lived together, while the rest of his friends all had their own places. They used this place as a "home base" of sorts, though, so a full house was fairly common. As frustrated and annoyed as Tony was, he couldn't help but feel a little bit of trepidation. He was finally getting to meet his boyfriend's friends. What if they didn't like him?

When they entered the living room, everyone was already there, and by the looks of it, they had not been expecting to see Tony with Steve. Five pizza boxes were strewn about, everyone pausing mid-bite to look at him with wide eyes.

The man with mocha colored skin clicked off the television and turned to face them with his hands on his hips. They were all silent as they watched Steve and Tony, and Tony had to force down the desire to hide behind his mountain of a boyfriend.

Finally, Steve broke the tense silence. "Guys, this is Tony."

All at once, they all sprung out of their chairs and hurried over, completely surrounding Tony. They all introduced themselves, even though Tony could have picked them all out just by how often Steve talked about them. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Clint, and Bruce all shook his hand and greeted him enthusiastically. Apparently Thor was back in Norway dealing with some drama with his brother. The only thing that seemed out of place was Bucky's metal arm. Steve told him that he had lost it during a raid back in Afghanistan, and that he was having problems with his prosthetic. But that arm...it _wasn't _a prosthetic, at least not one that was currently on the market.

In hindsight, that little piece of information should have made the bigger picture clearer, but he was too caught up in the fact that his mouth was watering at the idea of getting in there to check out the wiring.

Once the introductions were out of the way, Steve streered him to the couch and pushed his shoulders so that Tony had no choice but to sit. Everyone else remained standing though, and Tony finally couldn't bite down his frustration anymore.

"Not that it isn't really great to finally meet you guys, but…" He turned to Steve, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Can you tell me what the hell is going on now?"

At least everyone else looked surprised too, they obviously didn't seem to know what was happening either. Steve crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his shoulders. "Soon, I promise. Right now, though, I need to talk to Clint, Natasha, and Bucky. Sam, Bruce, you stay here with Tony."

That earned him a round of protests and questions from almost everyone in the room, but Steve wasn't having any of it. Suddenly he was using this voice that Tony had only heard a sample of back at the apartment. "This is not a _request_. Clint, Nat, Buck, come with me to the warehouse." He locked onto Sam and Bruce. "You two are going to stay here and watch Tony."

Everyone was silent, not daring to argue with Steve. But this was Tony, and he wasn't fucking scared of his boyfriend. He _wasn't_. All of his confusion and anger boiled down to a point, and he suddenly wasn't worried about biding his time anymore. He pushed off from the couch, throwing his hands into the air. "What the _fuck_, Steve?" If he hadn't been so blindingly frustrated, he might have seen the way the others stiffened as Tony advanced on their friend. "I don't need a fucking babysitter. I need you to tell me why you dragged my ass halfway across town for me to just sit here while you go off and do God knows what with your friends!"

Steve didn't so much as glance at the others, choosing rather to direct all of his attention onto Tony. Under normal circumstances, that heated gaze would have shot right down to his cock, but this was different. Tony was challenging Steve in a way he hadn't before.

"I need you to trust me for just a bit longer, Tony. Please."

Well, fuck. Steve could have said literally anything else and Tony would have clawed at his throat, demanding an explanation. But no, Steve was asking Tony to _trust _him. The man he _loved_. And he said _please_. If Steve thought this was important, then it was important. They stared each other down for a few more tense moments before Tony let out a breath and nodded warily.

Steve didn't hesitate to step into his space and wrap his arms around Tony, kissing his hair gratefully. "Thank you, sweetheart. When I get back, we'll talk, okay? I promise."

Tony nodded again, then flopped back down onto the couch and watched Steve and his friends walk out the door. When the lock clicked, Sam and Bruce stood in the living room awkwardly while Tony pouted.

"I wouldn't suppose that either of you know what's happening?" he asked, stretching out along the leather and getting comfortable. Might as well.

Bruce touched his glasses anxiously and shook his head. "Not at the moment, no. But I'm sure Steve will be able to explain when he gets home."

Sam nodded, switching back on the television and picking up his abandoned pizza. "We were just watching 'Return of the Jedi.' You in?"

Tony grinned and sorted through the unopened box, picking up a piece with pepperoni on it. "I'm in." 

XX

The moment they entered the warehouse, Bucky grabbed Steve's shoulder and spun him around. "Alright, what just happened back there? I thought you wanted to keep Tony away from us a little while longer."

Sometime during the drive over, he had completely shifted over into "The Captain" persona, and he wrenched out of Bucky's touch, skin still crawling at the distance between him and Tony. The moment that Tony had mentioned the feeling of someone watching him, he knew something was wrong. Tony was a genius and surprisingly intuitive. If he didn't feel safe for any reason whatsoever, then he wasn't fucking safe. Steve ignored his right hand man for a moment and directed his attention at Clint. "Hawkeye, give me your report on when I asked you to observe Tony."

Clint's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he must have sensed the importance of the question. "I only tailed him for a week, Cap. I tracked his movements, kept an eye out for who he talked to, and memorized his routine. Tony Carbonell attends his doctoral classes twice a week for three hours, teaches an undergrad course on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at eleven a.m., and spends any free time he has either at his apartment or in the University's engineering lab. The only people he was in contact with during that week were Virgina Potts, an associate, Peter Parker, a student he's tutoring, and you, Boss."

Steve nodded, confirming that Clint hadn't left anything out of his initial report. "And you haven't been following him after I ordered you stand down? You haven't been watching him since we started dating?"

"What?" Clint asked, obviously frustrated now. "No! You gave me an order to stop, and I followed it."

"What's this about, Captain?" Natasha stepped forward with a perfectly popped brow.

Steve scowled, turning his back on them and walking back towards the office. He didn't want to be out in the open while they talked about Tony. His Tony. That someone was _watching_. _Fuck_. They all followed, and Bucky shut the door behind them. "Someone's been stalking Tony. He told me that he could feel someone watching him while we were in bed together this morning."

It seems that this was news to them. "Wait, someone other than Clint?"

The archer raised his hands in defense, "Woah, woah. I only watched him for that week you asked me to, Cap. I swear. I have no interest in seeing what happens when you two turn off the lights."

Steve's fingers tightened into fist, and he was barely fighting the urge to send it flying through a wall. Someone had seen him and Tony _together_. If they were watching the genius, then it would be ridiculous to assume they had any sort of moral boundaries when it came to turning a blind eye to their activities in the bedroom. "I believe you, Hawkeye. I need to know who is watching Tony, and why."

"Can you give us any leads?" Natasha asked, strictly business now.

He nodded, sucking in a harsh breath. Tony wouldn't appreciate Steve spilling his secret, but his safety was more important that trust right now. "Yeah. He told me last night that Carbonell isn't his real name."

It was Clint's turn to scowl. "What the hell does that mean? It's what's on his Driver's License. It's the name his apartment is listed under."

Steve shook his head, "His last name is Stark."

Bucky cursed loudly. "Are you telling me that your boyfriend is _Anthony Stark_? The sole heir to Stark Industries? The same weapons manufacturer that secretly deals to terrorists? Like the ones that blew my _goddamn arm off_?" His voice mounted higher and higher as he spit out every question.

"Tony had nothing to do with that!" Steve snapped. If Bucky thought Tony was involved in the attack that took his arm, he would have to physically restrain his best friend from going after Tony.

"How do you know that, Stevie? He could be one of them!" Bucky shot back, equally irritated.

Steve picked up a piece of pottery off the top of his desk and flung it towards the wall, anger not the least bit satisfied as it shattered into fifty pieces. "Because he's been on his own since he was seventeen years old! His father disowned him three years ago because Tony didn't want to make weapons." His breath was coming in harsh pants now. "Tony _isn't _his family, and we aren't going to hold his past behind him, you hear me? Now, I want you to give me a list of people who would want to hurt Tony Stark, and I want you to do it now!"

The three members of his team watched him silently, eyes locked onto his own blue ones. He willed for them to understand how important this is to him. How important Tony is.

"He's _mine _to protect, and right now I _know _he's in danger." He swallowed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I have this feeling, guys. He's mine, and he's in trouble."

That finally broke the tension, and Bucky slapped a hand across his shoulder. "If he's important to you, then he's important to us. We've got this, Stevie."

"Thanks, Buck."

XX

When the movie ended, Sam had passed out on the loveseat, mouth open with a line of drool hanging off his lips.

"You better close that for him before he starts catching flies," Tony muttered, only half joking. It had been a whole hour and Steve wasn't back yet. He looked down at his watch and frowned. He planned to spend the day in the University's lab working on his clean energy project. Steve was supposed to bring him lunch and maybe finish up some of his landscaping homework there.

He eyed Bruce, who was typing away at his tablet. "Say, do you have any idea when they're supposed to be back?" Tony asked innocently.

Bruce shook his head and gave him a nervous smile. "Nope, it could be a few hours, I'm sorry. They usually spend the entire day at the warehouse."

Tony frowned, sitting up and pulling his laptop out of the backpack stuffed with clothes. "That's not going to work for me." He thought through a few possible scenarios, and gave Bruce his best, Tony Stark smile. "Steve asked you to watch me, right?"

The older man nodded warily.

"Well, I have a project I'm working on, Steve knows all about it. If I don't finish, then I don't pass the course, and I don't get my doctorate. I was supposed to be in the lab all afternoon, but then he basically kidnapped me and is holding me for ransom here…" 

Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. "If you have a point, Tony, I suggest you get to it."

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine, Bruciebear?" He mused with a smirk. "Anyway, I'm suggesting that we move this hostage party to my lab. You can still watch me from there, Steve was going to spend the day with me and work on his own stuff anyway. You can too. This way, we can both actually be productive, and Steve won't mind the change of venue."

"I don't know, Tony…" He started, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Steve seemed really worried. If he thinks you'll be safe here, then I don't think we should leave."

Tony rolled his eyes. "He wanted me here because you guys are here. He thinks I'm safe with _you_, right? He's been to the lab with me about a million times, so we know that's safe. Come on, shove Sam awake and help me not fail out of school? Please?"

That earned him a snort, "From what Steve tells us about you, that would be next to impossible."

"True...but what do you say?"

Bruce studied the genius for a few tense moments before shrugging. "I guess it couldn't hurt. Just text him and tell him where we're going, and let him know that Sam and I will be with you."

"Excellent." Tony beamed, pulling out his phone. He pretended to type out a message, but ended up leaving it blank. If Steve wouldn't tell him what was going on, then Tony wouldn't tell him where he was going. He was a petty asshole like that. Whatever, Steve knew what he was getting into when they started dating. Tony didn't think that Steve had really prepared him for the same sentiment to go the other way around, though.

Sam had grumbled at the change of venue all the way to the car, but Tony distracted him by asking about his time in the military. Bruce's small Honda Civic was crammed with notes and paperwork, and Tony made a note to ask about the doctor's research later, but the three of them fit in with only a little maneuvering. He gave Bruce directions to the lab and leaned forward on Sam's passenger seat to hear a few stories that he couldn't tell if they were elaborated or not.

Tony pulled out his phone again to give it a quick peek. If Steve returned to the house and didn't find them there, then surely he would call right? The pit in his stomach that had only grown since this morning was aching now, and he wasn't sure what kind of explanation would be enough to fill it. He loved Steve, and Tony trusted him. But this was...this was just nuts.

He would just go to the lab and work there. It would help take his mind off of all of the bullshit that happened today. Bruce and Sam would find something in there to keep them busy, and then Steve would call, tell him to come home, and they would talk it out. Maybe have crazy hot make-up sex.

Or at least, that's what would have happened if the truck hadn't T-boned them going sixty miles an hour.

XX

A bright light was suddenly thrust too close to his face, and Tony groaned, trying to claw his way back to the sweet expanse of darkness. _Everything _hurt, and he wasn't ready to wake up yet. The light persisted. Why was Steve trying to wake him up? Didn't he know that Tony was exhausted?

Indecipherable voices sounded in the background, and he wanted to tell them to shut up and go away. Who was talking anyway? Had he fallen asleep on someone else's couch?

Tony jerked when one of the voices called out right next to his ear, the movement causing bursts of pain to flash behind his eyelids. "It's time to wake up, Mr. Stark."

And then it all came back to him. Tony telling Steve the truth about his name, their night together, Steve's strange behavior the next morning, the car…

Oh _fuck_. _The car. _

They had only been ten minutes away from campus when the truck slammed into them, flipping the car three a total of times until it landed on its roof. Tony remembered coming to upside down, sobs escaping his throat as he frantically called out for help. Oh God, he had been so scared. Everything hurt. He couldn't breathe. Bruce was completely unconscious...or, or _dead_, and Sam was coughing up blood as he tried to undo his seatbelt, calling out to both Tony and Bruce. God, Tony's chest hurt so bad. It was like he was on fucking _fire_.

He distantly remembers seeing people hop out of the truck, their feet taking their sweet time as they walked over to help. Tony's voice was hoarse as he screamed, fumbling hard with his own seat belt as he took stock of his injuries. Glass had left horrendous cuts down his forearm, the skin and blood showing straight through the fabric of his clothes. But his chest. His chest. Shards of glasses were embedded near his sternum, and Tony choked on his screams, choked on the blood. It was _everywhere_. He probably also had a concussion from where his head slammed against Sam's seat during the impact. The feet outside moved closer, and he was able to rasp out, "Help! _Please_!" He begged, "Get us out!"

The back door was ripped off its loosened hinges, and two sets of gloved hands cut off his seatbelt and hauled him out of the car none too carefully. He remembers them being much rougher than they probably should have been, and his legs had given out on him when they jostled his chest wound. But they kept dragging him away, and they _weren't _helping Sam and Bruce. He struggled weakly, trying to pry himself away from their tight grips. "Wait, no! My friends...they need help!"

Sam had called for him, shouting his name and he fought to get the seat belt off where it had him trapped. But nobody stopped, they just kept dragging him to the truck. The second he screamed for help, screamed for _Steve_, something connected with the back of his head and all he saw was black.

His eyes snapped open, and he winced at the light. Then winced again as his body throbbed in a deep rooted ache. Tony tried swallowing, but found that his mouth was dry and caked with the taste of metal. Of blood.

"There we go, look at how well you listen." The balding man with a German accent moved into his field of vision, and Tony automatically leaned away. He was tall enough to appear menacing, and the single eyepiece certainly didn't do him any favors. He grinned at Tony, but there was no warmth in it. "They told me you would be difficult, but that's not true, is it?"

Tony tried to take in his surroundings, but it was hard to focus on anything that wasn't the man in front of him, the harsh pain in his chest, and that damn light. Why couldn't they just turn it down or something? "How..." He tried in between harsh breaths. "How do you know my name?"

"We were...tipped off, by an old colleague of yours. It seems as though your particular set of skills are quite valuable to us, Mr. Stark."

He coughed again, pain shooting across his chest. It was impossible to focus on anything else now, the pain was too much. "It...hurts." He wheezed.

Hands carded through his hair, sending tiny shards of glass from the car's windows sprinkling out onto the concrete floor. "I know it does, Mr. Stark. We have a doctor en route. He will help with your...injuries...and then you will help us."

"Steve…" Tony choked, suddenly wanting nothing more than his boyfriend. He just wanted to go back to when they were in bed together earlier that morning when they were quiet, and happy, and safe.

The man "tsk'ed" at him. "That boyfriend of yours is quite protective over you. Wouldn't leave you alone. We had to wait until he wasn't around to make our move. It was difficult getting around him."

But that didn't explain why was Tony even _here_? "What...what do you want with me?" Oh God, he wasn't going to be able to speak again for a while. It hurt too much. Like his lungs were bursting straight out of his chest.

"We need weapons, Mr. Stark. Our..._previous_...distributor is being watched by the authorities, so we thought we would go straight to the source."

Oh _fuck_.

Sometimes he _really_ fucking hated being Tony Stark_._

XX

Bucky Barnes was not having a good day.

It had started off like any other, really. He had stayed over at Natasha's place, but they had gotten into a fight because he apparently used the last of her _very _expensive shampoo, which was a no-no. How the hell was he supposed to know? What the hell were they putting in the bottle, flecks of gold? She had kicked him out almost immediately, barely giving him any time to throw on a pair of jeans, much less a t-shirt. He had no doubt in his mind that the things she was shouting in Russian were very real, and very serious threats. So, he hauled his ass back home.

He and Sam sweated through a particularly painful workout before Clint, Bruce, and Nat had rendevoued at the house. His russian girlfriend was still pissed at him, a fact that was communicated by her pointedly sitting next to the archer rather than him. He would deal with her later, or more likely, she would deal with him later, after they had something to eat. Turns out there were a few boxes of leftover pizza, so they all settled in to watch Return of the Jedi while they waited for Steve to get back from Tony's. Steve was _always _at Tony's nowadays.

And then Steve had rushed in with Tony in tow, which was surprising enough on its own. Steve had been adamant that he didn't want his boyfriend around the Avengers, at least not yet. Apparently, Tony was some kind of genius who was also from New York, so it wouldn't take too much for him to put the pieces together. So it didn't make any sense when they both appeared in the living room looking completely disheveled and disgruntled.

And Steve hadn't been..._Steve_. This was the _Captain_ speaking, and something was very, very wrong. When they reached the warehouse and stuffed themselves into Steve's office, his best friend dropped a huge fucking bomb on them.

Tony, Steve's sweet, innocent, _pure_ boyfriend, who Steve didn't want messed up in Avengers business, was _Tony_ _fucking Stark_. One of the brightest minds of their time, and the best weapons designer in the entire fucking world. Sure, his pops was in charge, but an SI bomb had taken Bucky's arm in a Hydra base, so he took it upon himself to learn everything about that business inside and out. Including who was the real brains behind SI's most dangerous weapons. Turns out, Tony designed the damn thing when he was only twelve years old. Then one day he goes off to college and poof, he just happens to disappear.

Apparently, he was just hanging out in Boston, fucking Bucky's best friend.

After his short-lived fight with Steve, the four of them spent a few hours drawing up a list of who could possibly want their hands on Tony Stark. The shitty thing was that the list was very, _very_ long. They were at least able to shorten it by half through their next round of research, and then Steve cut it down to only a few potential suspects with his creepy accurate 'instinct' thing. The man really was a freak of nature when it came to knowing when something is right or wrong.

And _then…_

And then the hospital called Steve, who was the emergency contact for both Sam and Bruce. There had been an accident. Which didn't make any sense, of course, because they shouldn't have left the goddamn house in the first place. But they would have to wait to get their answers because two of their team members were stuck in the ICU.

Steve had been hysterical. Not that it was obvious to anything who didn't grow up with him, but the tight grip on the 'oh shit' handle in the truck, the wild look in his eye as he focused his entire attention on the road while Bucky drove, the way his jaw kept clicking and unclicking. The man was a _mess_. The hospital didn't have any record of Tony coming in when he asked, so his best friend was desperate to get to Bruce and Sam to figure out what the hell happened.

When they explained, Bucky's day went from bad, to worse, to a complete and utter shit show.

Tony had somehow managed to convince the two that they could wait for Steve in MIT's engineering lab, and a black F-150 had crashed straight into the left side of the car on the way there. Bruce had been knocked out instantly, but only walked away with a broken collarbone and a fractured wrist while Sam had a few broken ribs and a little internal bleeding that they were able to take care of right away.

The drivers of the truck had taken Tony. They hadn't even so much as looked at Sam or Bruce, but they went straight for Tony. Sam was a little green as he told them about the obvious injuries he saw on the genius, and Bucky's hardened stomach threatened to upheave at the possibility that the love of his best friend's life didn't survive his injuries. Apparently, the glass shards had embedded themselves all along Tony's body, slicing up his arms and fracturing right inside his chest. Blood had been everywhere. It was difficult to look at the crime scene photos.

Bucky chanced a look at Steve while Sam was telling his story, and _fuck_. This was bad. Bucky had seen Steve wipe out men without a second thought because of an illegal sex ring, had watched him beat the life out of Johann Schmidt because he blew off Bucky's arm, but he didn't think he had ever seen his best friend _this _angry.

He knew that Steve loved Tony, because he had told him so. But hearing it and seeing it for himself were two completely different things. A ghost of a smile tugged at Bucky's lips at the thought of what the Captain was going to do to the people who dared to harm Tony Stark.

XX

Sam and Bruce were required to stay overnight for observation, so Steve ordered the rest of the Avengers back to the warehouse. It was just as well that his two teammates couldn't join them. That, and the fact that they had suffered some serious injuries in that car crash were the only things keeping him from strangling them both.

How fucking hard was it to follow orders? He had trusted them to watch Tony, to _protect_ him.

And now Tony was gone.

"Widow, I want you on surveillance. Check every traffic camera and restaurant security from here to the University, whatever is available to find out the license plate on that truck. I need targets and I need them now." He turned to look at the archer. "Clint, check the streets. Find a list of witnesses and see what you can get out of them."

"Bucky," His best friend straightened as he was addressed. "I need your help running through this list of potential suspects. We can cross them off one by one once we confirm that they either were or were not stalking Tony."

Dear God, it hurt to say his name. Hurt to even think it. The worst part was that Steve didn't even know if he was alive or dead. He had to fight to stay on his feet when Sam described Tony's injuries from the crash, at least the obvious ones, and he bit his tongue so hard that it bled when he thought about how much pain the love of his life had to be in.

Tony was _his_. His. And someone had taken him. Someone had _hurt_ him.

Steve promised himself that it was the last thing they would ever do.

XX

When Tony awoke again, the pain had eased somewhat. The walls around him were a rusted grey with honest to god lampposts hanging every few feet. The warm blaze was easier on his eyes than the fluorescent lights. His brain was unfocused and muddled.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Stark." The man with the accent was back, gleefully reminding Tony that he had been kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics who wanted him to build weapons.

The man appeared in his field of vision, sporting a navy blue lab coat and a hideous smile. Someone seriously needed to get this man some braces. "I trust that our good doctor was able to make your injuries bearable? You were in quite a bit of pain there."

Tony worked his throat for a few seconds to confirm that he could actually speak without feeling like someone had their hand inside his chest. "He must have given me the good stuff."

The man spread his arms out wide and accommodating. "Only the best for our resident engineer. We can't have you working if your dead."

Tony snorted, taking stock of all of the wires and IV's running into his body. "It doesn't sound like you've given me much incentive to cooperate here."

"I can assure you, Mr. Stark, that we have the proper motivation lined up." Tony frowned as the temperature around him seem to drop a few degrees. He didn't like the look in the man's eyes, nor the sheer confidence he had that Tony would build exactly what they wanted. "We built a bomb." He said simply.

Tony immediately sat up in his make-shift hospital bed, dismayed to find that he had been strapped down. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Hydra did what it needed to do. The Captain and his Howling Commandos might have stopped us before, but not even the Avengers are a match for us now. Cut off one head, and two more take its place!" The German man clutched at the railings on either side of Tony's arms and leaned in close, practically hissing. "If you don't build exactly what we require in the amount of time you are given, then I will set off the explosives we placed at the starting line of the Boston Marathon."

Tony's stomach dropped out from under him. The rumors were true, Hydra what _back_. And they were as horrifyingly evil as before. If Tony didn't do what they wanted, they were going to kill thousands of people. But if he did...there was no telling what kind of damage they could do. New York was still hurting from the devastation Hydra brought a few years back. Tony suddenly wished for the Captain to reappear and save the day again. He stopped them once, he could do it again.

And if the Captain was there to fight, then Tony wouldn't have to build weapons for these monsters. It was an impossible situation, and he fought the urge to cry. _Stark men are made of iron. _Isn't that what his dad used to say when he had one too many glasses of whiskey? (Which was ALWAYS). He couldn't show weakness to these people.

_Well fuck you, dad_. Tony thought. _Iron sharpens iron, and you have always been useless._

Someone would find him. Someone would find him and rescue him, and he would tell everyone about the bombs and they would all get to safety. Then he could go home and curl into Steve's lap, not even caring how angry he was at him at the moment.

Monocle Man leaned back, clapping his clammy hands together. "Now that we understand each other, I would ask that you enjoy the morphine while you can, Mr. Stark. Because tomorrow you'll get started without the drugs clouding that brilliant mind of yours. I'm sure you'll be able to handle the pain. After all, what's one man's pain to thousands more dead?"

Well fuck you too, Tony growled silently in his head. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that Steve was right next to him, curled up by his side and telling Tony that everything was going to be okay, that he was coming for him.

XX

It had been three days since Tony had been taken.

It was safe to say that Steve wasn't handling his kidnapping well.

Three days to slowly lose his mind. Three days for the anger to build up like an active volcano, crest by crest, waiting for the most opportune time to let loose and obliterate everything in its path.

Three days before they finally had a break in the case.

When Bucky, Natasha, Clint, and Sam approached his desk warily, sliding a 4x6 photograph in front of him, Steve saw red.

Staring back at him was a shot of the driver of the truck that crashed into Bruce's car from a witness' camera. A Hydra tattoo was glaringly visible from a spot near the back of his neck.

When he spoke, Steve was surprised at how even his voice sounded. At least now he would finally have an outlet for his unrelenting anger. "What else do we have?"

Bucky grunted, "a location." Steve's eyes snapped up to meet his, determined and furious. "Nat and Clint were able to find his route, and I crossed checked it with known Hydra bases. There's only one that lines up with both, Stevie."

Steve stood up slowly, walking towards his false wall and pressing on a loose panel. It opened to his touch, revealing the perfectly round shield that carried him through his days at the Captain of the Howling Commandos. Once he slotted it along his back, letting it click into place, he turned to his team, eyes blazing with determination and purpose.

"Suit up."

XX

He might have been Tony Carbonell for the past three years. He might have changed his name, lost his fortune, and kept away from the family business as if his life depended on it, but none of that changed the fact that he was a Stark at the very center of his core.

It's what made him who he was.

Tony Stark, genius, former and future billionaire, and the greatest weapons designer in the fucking world. The world wasn't ready to know that though, and he hadn't been planning on getting back into the game. But of course, fucking Hydra had to go and ruin everything. They had to go and ram a car into him, causing the glass to shred the muscles in his chest apart, and threaten thousands of innocent lives.

As promised, the morphine had run out by the time he had woken up again. Agonizing wasn't a powerful enough word to describe the pain Tony was in. Every breath and every movement was labored. All he wanted to do was curl up on the hospital bed they had strapped him to and sleep, but they weren't giving him that option. With the threat of the bomb looming over his head, they thrust Tony into a makeshift workshop with a list of SI weapons they demanded to be made.

Tony knew that there was no way he could make weapons for Hydra. It would go against everything he ever believed in, and it would be a slap to The Captain's face. The mysterious mob boss and his Commandos had worked tirelessly for three years to shut Hydra down. If Tony did what Hydra wanted, then there would be no stopping them. On the other hand, he couldn't risk the lives of those running the Boston Marathon. The city had taken too much damage already from the attack in 2013. Nobody deserved to go through that again, and Tony wouldn't be the reason another bomb went off in his city.

So he made a plan. He was a genius, after all. One that would keep Hydra from getting their hands on SI's weapons while keeping the people in Boston safe. If he was lucky, maybe he could take out enough of Hydra that the Avengers had a chance of ridding the streets of any strays.

Unfortunately for him, this plan involved blowing the Hydra base sky high with everyone in it.

Tony hadn't ever contemplated suicide before, no matter how low he got. It didn't matter how hard his father hit him, or how hungry and tired and skinny he got from not being able to pay for food. He always wanted to change the world, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't a part of it.

And then Steve came into his life. Steve showed him what it was like to love another person with every bone in your body and every fiber of your being that the rest of the world fell away. The kind of love that makes your toes curl from just the sweetness of a simple kiss, the kind that pushes all insecurities and fear and worries out the door with a promise you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, will be kept.

So yes, Tony had wanted a life outside of this. Had wanted to change the world with clean energy. Had wanted a life with Steve.

But we don't always get what we want. Tony didn't have any sort of medical background, but even he knew that the damage to his chest would most likely kill him in a few days if he wasn't treated properly. All Hydra really did watch patch him up and pump him full of drugs. So, if he had the chance to save thousands, and he was going to die anyway, he wasn't going to throw a perfectly good opportunity away.

So, Tony Stark got to work on what he did best. Building weapons. More specifically, a bomb that was included on the list of demands. He was a genius, though, and used the tools he had in front of him to include a biometric scanner in the design. He would build what they asked for, but he would make sure he was the only one able to use it.

And when he did, he would take Hydra with him.

XX

On the third day of his captivity, he was ready. They hadn't given him hardly any time to eat or sleep, much more focused on having their precious bomb in their hands then to keep the engineer healthy, despite their earlier promises.

Tony was struggling. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, and it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. But the bomb was ready. Tony did what upper-society taught him to do, emotionally manipulate the people around you into giving you attention. By the time he described the weapon to Monocle Man, the german scientist was frothing at the mouth, demanding his soldiers left and right to contact their superiors for a live demonstration. Tony was meant to describe the bomb in acute detail, explaining why his design was far better than anything SI could ever hope to build.

By that evening, the entire building was packed with Hydra members, all anxiously waiting to hear about their new ace in the whole. Tony thought that he would be scared, or nervous for what was about to happen, but instead he felt at peace. He was doing the right thing. He just hoped that Pepper and Rhodey wouldn't miss him too much, and that Steve would mourn for the appropriate amount of time before moving on with tremendous guilt. A ghost of a smile tugged at Tony's lips. Who was he kidding? All he wanted was for Steve to be happy. That's what you wanted for people that you loved.

About ten minutes before his demonstration was set to begin, something happened that was most definitely not part of the plan.

Loud shouts and gunfire began sounding from down the hall, shaking Tony out of the slight haze of pain he was hidden in. The mass of soldiers around him grunted in confusion, slowly raising their weapons and heading towards the door.

Monocle Man and his superiors stayed in the room with Tony, shouting at their soldiers to find out what the hell was happening. He spun around towards Tony with pure disdain. "Is this your doing?"

Tony blinked, unsure of what he was asking. Did he think that the man they were holding captive with a gaping hold in his chest had somehow managed to call for help? "No…" He answered truthfully, hoping beginning to take root. Maybe the police had found him?

The powerful men in the room shouted at one another, making the migraine between Tony's temples throb unpleasantly. He didn't think he could last much longer. This demonstration was supposed to be his swan song, but now he wasn't even sure if he could get through it.

More screaming and more gunshots, and the tension and panic filling the room was practically choking him. Someone cried out in english, "It's the Avengers!"

Tony's head snapped up at that. The Avengers? They were the rival gang that had popped up in Boston. Not much was known about them besides the fact that they were lethal, and very very good at their jobs.

A man limped into the room, his black uniform caked with fresh blood. His face looked like it had come in contact with an anvil. The moment he stepped through the threshold, he stumbled onto his knees. "It's them, sir." He rasped.

"Those maggots? The Avengers?" Monocle Man demanded, taking a step towards Tony.

The soldier shook his head, lip trembling. "Nein. It's the Winter Soldier." His knees gave out on him as well, and he fell to his stomach. "It's the Captain."

Not a soul spoke as they watched the man in front of them lose the fight against his injuries. After a few moments, one of the Hydra leaders turned on Monocle Man. "The Captain? He is here?"

As the room exploded into arguments and protests, Tony's mind was reeling. The Captain? If Hydra was so terrified of him, it must be the same man who led the Commandos in New York. He must have moved here to Boston and put together the Avengers. The pieces should have begun connecting right then in there, but Tony was in too much pain and frankly, too relieved that the Captain was here to save the day, to work out the puzzle.

The noise was finally too much for him, and Tony collapsed to the ground. He still held the bomb in his hand and contemplated just setting it off, but he didn't want to hurt the Captain and his Avengers. They were here to wipe out Hydra, and after what they did in New York, Tony trusted them to get the job done.

Monocle Man rushed to his side, grabbing Tony by the blood soaked hoodie and thrust him upwards. "The bomb! The bomb! How do you use it?"

Tony just flashed him a cocky smile, tasting blood in his mouth.

"I will set off the bomb at the marathon! You know I will! It might not start until tomorrow, but plenty of people will still be on that street!" The man was getting desperate. When Tony didn't answer his demands quick enough, he sent his fist flying across his face.

And then the door burst open behind them, and Tony couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear it.

"You really, really should not have done that."

Tony's entire body stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice. Monocle Man didn't seem to notice his reaction, because he just gave a dirty laugh and tossed Tony onto the floor like he weighed nothing. He crashed harshly, new waves of pain flooding his vision as he whited out for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, the Hydra leaders had dropped their weapons. All of them except Monocle Man.

"How!" He demanded, pointing his poor excuse for a gun right at Steve. His Steve. _The Captain_. The iconic circular shield in his hand confirmed it. "How did you even find us?" The rest of the Avengers fanned out around Steve, and Tony did a double take as he recognized Bucky, Natasha, Clint, and Sam.

Holy fuck. _Steve _was the _Captain_. His friends were the _Avengers_. He was dating one of the most powerful crime bosses alive.

"You took something of mine. That was your mistake." Steve was commanding and authoritative, and Tony recognized his tone from a few days ago when he insisted Tony needed protection. Fuck. This must have been what he was going to explain.

Steve was the fucking Captain.

Monocle Man sputtered in fury. "Something of yours?" He turned towards Tony again, his eyes widening in understanding. "Oh, fu-"

He never finished the sentence, because a bullet was suddenly lodged right between his eyes. Shots rang out around him, and he distantly heard the sound of bodies dropping. Tony heaved, the pain in his chest flaring to life again, and he clutched onto the bomb.

Strong hands were suddenly holding him up, cupping his cheeks. "Tony, sweetheart." This wasn't the Captain speaking anymore, it was Steve. His Steve. "Open your eyes for me. Hey, hey." With great difficulty, Tony did. The movement made him tired, but he found enough strength to speak and hold the device in his hand up.

"Bomb." He rasped. "Will blow the building…" Another breath. "No more Hydra."

"Tony, let me get you out of here, and then we can talk about this later."

Tony panicked. Steve didn't understand. Hydra _needed_ to be eliminated, and this was the only way to make sure that happened. 

"Thirty second timer." He explained as he coughed up blood. "Steve," he pleaded, focusing on his boyfriend's crystal blue eyes.

A flash of hardness worked its way into Steve's handsome features. "Tell me what to do."

And so he did.

Steve heaved Tony up into his arms, shouting out orders to his teammates to get the hell out of the building and secure the perimeter. Only Bucky stayed behind to cover Steve's back while he carried Tony.

People were still screaming around him, and the sound of gunfire was almost deafening. He just wanted it to stop.

"We're ready, sweetheart." Steve told him, holding him close to his chest and whispering in his ear. Tony took a deep breath and brought the bomb to his lips, using the voice command feature and smearing a trail of his blood onto the scanner. The moment he did, Bucky tore it out of his hands and threw it into the room with the dead Hydra leaders.

After that, it was all a blur. Logically, he knew they must be running. He knew they must be moving fast, but Tony's brain wasn't working at the speed it should have been. All he really remembered was Steve shouting directions at Bucky, then shouting at Tony to stay awake. He knew the moment they stepped outside because the rush of the frigid, waning winter air slammed into them, and he gasped in relief. He was free.

Then he was being ushered into a van, and all he remembered was a distant roar in the background before he let the darkness take him.

XX

Steve didn't move from Tony's bedside for six days. The moment they had gotten into the van, Bruce had his medical kit ready. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get Tony to the hospital. The doctors had operated on him for four hours, and Steve had never been so wrung out in his entire life.

The moment they entered the Hydra base, every ounce of anger and devastation that had built up inside of him since Tony had been taken unloaded like a flood. He didn't even blink as he led the massacre. And then they advanced on the workshop, and Steve watched von Strucker strike his fist across Tony's face.

He wanted to obliterate these fuckers for hurting what is his, and he wanted to burn the place to the ground.

And then Tony, his sweet, genius, hurt Tony, had given him the tools to do just that. It was dangerous, but the panicked look in his eyes told Steve that the decision wasn't negotiable. Natasha and Clint had cleared the street of any pedestrians and innocent bystanders, and Sam and detailed the quickest escape route for them while Bruce readied the van.

Tony worked his magic, and Bucky covered his back while the three of them got the hell out of there. They made it with time to spare, but Tony had passed out by the time they got to the van.

And he hadn't woken up for six days. They had taken him off of the breathing tube yesterday, confirming that his lungs were strong enough to work on their own.

All he needed to do was wake up.

Steve's hand was wrapped around Tony's. He lifted and pressed it to his lips, whispering "I love you" over and over again. He didn't know if Tony could hear him or not, but if he could, Steve wanted Tony to know that he was here, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

His friends had all come to visit in shifts, bringing him food and coffee. Tony's friends, Pepper Potts and James Rhodes came to visit as well. Steve was well acquainted with Pepper, and had only met Rhodes twice, but he was pleased that they were there for him. They believed the same story he had told the police, that the Avengers had raided a Hydra base to find Tony, and they delivered him to Steve. Rhodes might have been suspicious, but he and Pepper were too focused on Tony's recovery to put much thought into it.

Steve gently ran a hand through Tony's freshly washed hair, still pressing his hand to his mouth. "I love you Tony. Come back to me. Please, sweetheart. I need you."

He closed his eyes, praying to every deity out there that Tony would come back to him. Steve needed him like he needed air to breathe. He kept him centered, kept him calm. Without Tony, Steve became lost to the Captain. Without Tony, he was just a cold man without a heart. He was Steve's heart. The love of his life.

"I need you, Tony. Please." He begged, his voice cracking with desperation.

When he opened them again, Tony's caramel brown eyes were staring right back into his. The haze of confusion passed before it was replaced by a glimmer of delight. "You have me, Captain. Always."


	2. Chapter 2

**You have Me **

**Tags: Warnings of panic attacks, PTSD, mentions of rape, torture, explicit content**

**Notes: FYI, I do not have my doctorate, so the PhD process mentioned in this story might have a few errors. My bad**

**Part 2**

Once Tony woke up in the hospital, Steve struggled keeping his hands to himself. Half of the time, he wanted to lightly run his lips along every bruise, scar, and stitch so that Tony knew he was still beautiful. So that he knew Steve still wanted him, _needed_ him, like he needed air to breathe.

The other half of the time, Steve wanted to smother him with a goddamn pillow.

Tony just couldn't sit _still_. About thirty seconds after he woke up, catching his deep caramel brown eyes with Steve's blue ones and letting him know that he would always have him, despite the "Captain" shaped elephant in the room, Tony practically sprung out of bed, hyperventilating and ranting about the bombs Hydra planted in Hopkinton, tearing through five stiches in the process.

Steve was able to calm him down a little by shoving their foreheads together and promising Tony that he would take care of it, but he wouldn't lay back down or breathe normally again until they were on speaker phone with Agent Coulson from the FBI. Steve winced at the suspicious look Tony shot his way when Coulson recognized Steve immediately, but ignored it. They could have this conversation when Tony was feeling better. Preferably feeling better in Steve's bed where he could ensure that the young genius couldn't get kidnapped by any more dangerous terrorists. Or run away from the conversation. Both seemed unnecessarily probable.

It was a few more hours until Clint came into the hospital room to give them the all clear. The FBI found three bombs planted directly along the starting line of the marathon, and if it wasn't for Tony, they could have gone off at any time, regardless if the detonator was destroyed or not.

Tony didn't quite see it that way, though. Steve could tell by the haunted shadow in his eyes that Tony wouldn't be moving past this anytime soon. He felt personally responsible for all of those lives that had been in danger, despite the fact that they were safe now. Later that night, his boyfriend curled around Steve's hand on the bed, tears leaving salty tracks down his cheeks, admitting that it was _his_ fault Hydra had their hands on such high-grade weapons in the first place. In New York, they had somehow gotten acquainted with SI weaponry, and about half of them had been his designs from his early teenage years.

Steve ran his free hand through Tony's hair, massaging lightly in the spots he knew would make Tony relax. He leaned over and gently kissed his boyfriend's temple, "Shhh, sweetheart, no. None of this is your fault. _None_ of it." Steve was intimately aware that Hydra used SI weapons while in New York. During their three year war, Bucky had researched the company thoroughly enough to give the police enough evidence to put them under a microscope. Of course, the police could be bought off, which is why no charges were ever filed.

Tony just shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as his lip trembled, and Steve's heart shattered at the sight. "You don't _understand, _Steve. Someone at SI is double-dealing. It's _my_ family's company, _my_ designs. SI's being watched, which is why they grabbed me in the first place." His breathing picked up, coming out in harsh, painful pants. "Someone told Hydra that I was the source. Someone at my company _told_ them to come after me. If I hadn't designed those weapons in the first place, none of this would have ever happened."

Steve saw red. His grip on Tony tightened for a fraction of a second before he relaxed, careful not to jostle any of his injuries.

Someone that Tony _knew_ was responsible for his kidnapping. Someone that Tony _trusted_.

Which meant that he finally had a lead.

"None of this is your fault." Steve insisted vehemently, letting a hint of his "Captain" voice seep through. That earned him a wide-eyed gaze from Tony. "You were only trying to make your father proud of you, that's it. The blame falls on whoever is selling SI's weapons to terrorists, and them alone." He reached out to grip Tony's chin lightly, willing him to understand. "I will find out who's behind this, and I will make them pay. No one will ever hurt you again." Steve sealed his promise with a kiss, binding them together the best way he knew how. He left delicate kisses along his cheeks, trailing upwards with delicate precision.

"But I don't want you to worry about that right now, okay?" He whispered against Tony's temple, his skin warm and tender at his lips. "Just focus on getting better."

Tony just nodded against his touch, letting his eyes fall shut. Steve watched his boyfriend unfurl and relax until his breathing evened out, signaling that he was finally asleep.

It only lasted about two hours before the screaming started.

"_Please_..._no...leave me alone!_" A rasped whimper fell from his lips, and he flailed across the bed, threatening to burst through another round of stitches when his arm struck the hand railing.

"Tony!" Steve hissed, pinning the young genius' hands down at his sides so he couldn't hurt himself anymore. "Wake up, sweetheart! It's just a nightmare!"

But Tony couldn't seem to hear him. He lashed out harder, his legs coming up to defend himself against some unknown assailant.

Steve growled, desperation clawing its way into his throat as he watched the man he loved struggle through so much fear. He made a split decision and climbed onto the bed, locking all of Tony's limbs underneath him. He took a deep breath and shifted into his best "Captain" persona.

"Tony, _wake up!_"

Thankfully, Tony's eyes snapped open at the powerful command. They frantically scanned the darkened room in pure, unadulterated terror until they finally focused on Steve. Like a switch, his body fell limp as soon as he registered that he was safe, and Steve maneuvered his way around so that Tony was curled up against his side, clutching onto his shirt.

"I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you. It was just a nightmare. You're safe now."

Wet tears pooled against the fabric on Steve's chest, and he continued reassuring Tony with soft musings, professions of love, and promises of safety until he felt steady breathing, indicating that Tony had finally slipped under again.

Steve closed his own eyes, jaw locked tight with barely controlled fury. He reached his free hand into his pocket and pressed the phone to his ear. It only rang once before Bucky answered.

"_Stevie?"_

"Buck, I'm going to need your help up here."

"_On my way." _

XX

Everything hurt.

Every inch of his body _ached_, and if it weren't for the missing tell-tale nausea spells, Tony would think that he was reliving his one monumentally failed attempt at drinking himself under the table during his first semester after arriving at MIT. But no, this pain was different, more distinct. Tony wanted to _writhe_.

The only thing stopping him was a sheer mass of warmth outlining the length of the right side of his body. It was unmoving, constant, and Tony slumped against it knowing he was safe.

"Are you awake, love?" Steve's voice chimed roughly, exhaustion peeking through.

Tony forced his eyes open, wincing at the increasing light streaming through the hospital windows. "M'mf." A deep chuckle answered him, and Tony burrowed his way closer into Steve's side, gasping when the movement made his chest feel like it was splitting open again.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Steve swore under his breath and tilted his chin up. "Buck, hit the call button. He needs more morphine."

"_No_." He argued, wheezing through his teeth. "M'fine." The one time Tony had ever sought out pain medicine by his own volition, Howard had shoved him down the remaining stairs and cursed him for being so _weak_.

_Stark men are made of iron._

"You are not fine," Steve insisted, cutting off any of Tony's further protests. "You're hurting, love."

The nurse slipped through the door, casting a fairly unimpressed look at Steve for his migration to the bed, but Tony just tightened his grip. There was no way in hell she was going to pry them apart. His boyfriend was the fucking _Captain_, and nobody moved him unless he wanted to be moved.

"He needs more morphine, ma'am." Bucky explained gruffly, looking up from his tablet from his spot in the visitor's chair. Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering what the hell he was doing here in the first place.

She took a look at his chart hanging off the foot of the bed and grimaced. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but the primary on the insurance has a note to block any pain medications after the initial dose. If you want another one, the insurance won't pay for it."

Tony's stomach dropped, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as a rush of embarrassment flared across his cheeks. He should have expected something like this. Howard was a grade-A dickwad, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that he would have gone to such lengths to make sure that Tony suffered, even if he wasn't there to deal it out himself.

The room was tensely quiet for a few moments before he felt a low rumbling coming from Steve's chest. "Give him all of the morphine that he needs." Steve ordered darkly, curling his hand around Tony's. "Don't worry about the insurance, I'll handle any unsettled bills."

A choked off strangled sound escaped from Tony's throat. "Wha-"

"We'll talk about this later, love." Steve whispered against his hair before turning to the nurse. "Ma'am, give him whatever he needs."

The nurse nodded warily and did as he asked. Tony was practically vibrating from disbelief and mounting pain. Steve was actually offering to…?

The thought slipped away as the medicine did its job, and Tony curled more fully into Steve as his eyelids grew heavier from overwhelming relief.

XX

Bucky watched Steve zero in on his boyfriend, wondering what was going through his mind right now. He had been by Steve's side for almost _twenty_ years now, and he's never seen the man so wrung out as he was in the past week.

You didn't have to be his best friend to see that Steve loved Tony, but you did if you wanted to understand the _changes _that the young genius brought out in him. Back when they were kids, Steve might have been a sickly little runt, but he also had a way of lighting up every room he walked into. His "golly gee" and "oh shucks" attitude made old ladies swoon and mammas weak at the knees. He might have gotten into too many fights, but Bucky never hesitated to back him up because Steve only ever fought for the little guy, the ones who couldn't stand up for themselves.

Over the past few years as "The Captain," Steve had..._transformed_. It was the best word Bucky could think of to describe it. Instead of the scrappy, easy-going, polite kid who spent a little too much time charming nurses from a hospital bed, Steve had become harsher. Colder. Instead of lighting up a room, he froze it out. People looked at him, his height, his bulk, the way he held himself, and instinctively _knew _thathe was dangerous. Not that Bucky minded, of course, because people had always viewed _him _that way, Stevie was just finally stepping into his chosen role.

The worry came in when Steve interacted with his friends, the people he was supposed to trust above everyone else. The nights of laughing and making a mess of things just for the hell of it with the Howling Commandos weaned over the years. The war with Hydra, and Bucky's subsequent attack, hardened Steve into a shell of a man. A shell of his former self. Every mission they took on even after Hydra seemed to wear him down until his edges were sharp and practically poisonous.

It was partly why Bucky brought up the idea of art school. Before the whole "Captain" persona came about, Steve was always passionate about art. Whenever he could get his hands on a piece of paper or a blank canvas, he never failed to transform it into a thing of beauty. After all of the shit they had gone through, they both deserved to take a step back from the harsh realities that had become their lives.

Things got better when they moved to Boston. The weight of responsibility and intensity seemed to be lifted off of Steve's shoulders, and he was content in spending his days at class and his nights watching movies, going to bars, and eating pizza on the couch with Bucky.

Until he wasn't.

One day Stevie came home with a police scanner, "just to keep an eye out, Buck." Bucky wasn't an idiot though, and he knew Steve better than anyone. That single police scanner was the beginning of another cycle of their former life, but here in Boston.

He wanted to protest, _he did_, but if Bucky was honest with himself, he missed the life too. They did damn good work in New York, and saved hundreds of lives in the process. Boston was slower, but no less important. So when Steve brought Sam home one day, he didn't hesitate to welcome him into their recently downsized family and ask what role he would be playing in their plan to take over Boston.

It didn't take long for Clint and Natasha to join the picture, followed by Thor, and finally Bruce. They worked together exceptionally well, meshing even better than the Howling Commandos, and that was saying something. They were each brilliant in their own right, and they made Steve and Bucky better simply by proximity.

However, while the Avengers grew in name and recognition, Steve seemed to lose himself to the "Captain" again. He became more withdrawn, more focused on missions. Art school was put on the back burner, his passion for it dwindling with every passing week.

Bucky was starting to get desperate, even going so far as considering an intervention with the help of their friends. But, out of the fucking blue, things..._changed_. Suddenly he wanted to do something besides work a job. Steve found someone who he could focus all of his ridiculous pent up energy on, and goddammit, Tony just took it all in stride.

Once they started dating, it almost _killed_ Bucky when Steve announced that he didn't want the Avengers meeting Tony just yet. He wanted to kiss the man who had gotten Steve back to his old self. To the version of himself that laughed at stupid jokes, didn't say no to weekly movie nights, and wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders before shoving his fist into his hair for a noogie.

And now he finds out that the man who was responsible for his best friend's revival was _Tony Stark_. Bucky could admit that when he first heard the news, he could barely think straight through the haze of white-hot fury. Stark Industries sold weapons under the table, and people died because of it. He himself had lost his goddamn _arm_ because of one of SI's bombs.

But none of that was Tony's fault.

Tony was...good, just like Stevie had said. He didn't _want_ to make weapons, and had left behind his home, money, and family because of it.

He had suffered because of it, too.

And goddammit, Bucky was going to _rip apart_ the people responsible for hurting Tony. For hurting the man that his best friend in the world loved. Because judging by the way Steve was looking at him, Tony was now a part of the Avengers' lives, for better or for worse, and the Avengers were family. They protected their own.

XX

"Stevie?"

Steve blinked, moving his singular gaze from Tony to Bucky, who was staring hard at him from the chair beside the hospital bed. "Right, sorry about that." He's had a hard time focusing on anything besides the man tucked under his arm since the attack. Since he didn't have any plans to move out of Tony's weak grasp, he needed to rely on his friends to take care of a few things.

He ran his fingers absently as he checked off his mental list. "I need someone to call Tony's friends, Pepper Potts and James Rhodes. Now that he's woken up, they're going to want to see him, and it will make him happy too. It also gives us a chance to get Tony's key from Pepper, which I'm going to need you to use to get into his apartment." Steve grimaced, tightening his jaw in Bucky's direction. "I'm not ready to leave his side, and I'm damn well sure not leaving him alone, even if it's just in his place when he's feeling better."

To his surprise, Bucky just smirked and leaned back in the chair, resting both hands behind his head. "I was wondering how long it was going to take for him to move in. I'm just surprised that you're not the one going to his apartment. At least you wouldn't have roommates to worry about."

Steve shook his head, not quite ready for humor. "He'll be safer with the Avengers around. At least the ones I trust with him right now." He knew that comment wouldn't be received well, but he hadn't expected Bucky to gnash his teeth together and lean forward to smack Steve across the back of the head. "Hey!"

"Don't be an _idiot_, Stevie." He growled. "You need to forgive Sam and Bruce, they've both apologized about a thousand times and feel awful about what happened. You know you have to move past this."

If he wasn't afraid of disturbing Tony, Steve would have gotten in Bucky's face. "I told them to _stay put_, Buck. I trusted them to keep him safe, and _this _happens. I can't just get over that!" He didn't realize just how fucking furious he was about the situation until he started getting into it. No, he wouldn't be "moving past this" anytime soon.

"Don't fight me on this right now." He warned, low and dangerous so that Bucky knew to drop it. His best friend grit his teeth together but nodded. Steve swallowed, sending him a grateful look. "Tony's things can be moved to my room. He doesn't have much, mainly clothes and any books you see." He smiled down at his boyfriend. "All of his projects strewn about can be moved to the MIT robotics lab. DUM-E can go there too. Pepper can help with that."

"I'm sorry, what did you just call me?" Bucky asked incredulously.

"Not you." Steve rolled his eyes. "His helper bot, DUM-E. Tony made him a few years ago along with another robot, U, that's already at the lab. Speaking of which, I need someone to call Peter Parker, one of Tony's students. The school knows he's on medical leave for now, but Peter can pick up any work he's missed and bring it to our place. Plus, I think Tony will be happy to see him."

Bucky nodded, twisting out his metal arm to work out an uncomfortable kink. "I'll have Nat reach out to Tony's friends, then get Thor and Clint to help out with the move." Their boisterous blonde friend had returned from Norway after hearing about the attack, eager to lend his aid. "Anything else?"

Steve was silent for a minute, his gaze coming back to rest on Tony's sleeping form. "I have a lead to follow up on. Hydra kidnapped Tony because they wanted him to make weapons…" he took a deep breath, "which means that someone at SI who knew that he's the real genius behind the designs set it up. Someone who he's close to."

"There can't be very many people who know that particular detail about him." Bucky guessed, fist clenched in realization. "Someone who he trusts. I'll look into it, Stevie."

Steve reached his free hand out, grateful when Bucky didn't hesitate to take it. "Thank you, Buck. For everything. If I didn't have you and the others by my side on this, I don't know what I would do." His throat closed with barely contained emotion, and he squeezed his eyes shut as Bucky tightened his grip.

"You're family, Stevie, and now so is Tony. Just remember that the Avengers have your back. _All of us._" He implored, and Steve knew what he was trying to say. Sam and Bruce were family too, and he needed to remember that they didn't set out to hurt Tony. He needed to trust his friends, just like they trusted him.

XX

The next time Tony woke up, it was to three voices whispering above his head.

"Are you sure that's the best way to handle this?"

"Steve, you know we can watch over him at the apartment, he'll be okay."

A few moments of silence. "Look, I don't doubt your ability to watch out for him, I don't. But Rhodes, you're leave ends in three days, and Pepper, you have class and finals and your own life. He'll be safer at my house, where he won't have to be alone."

Tony's breath caught at the thought. He _didn't want _to be alone. Being alone meant that Hydra could come back to get him...wait, not Hydra, Hydra was dead. Fucking blown up, his own doing.

But...what if they weren't? What if they came after him again, but this time it was for revenge? What if whoever sent them decided they wanted to finish the job off themselves? What if...what if…

"Tony?" The voices sounded far away this time. Garbled. Harsh beeping filled his ears, sending him back to that dirty single hospital bed where they pumped him with enough morphine to fry his brain and then took it all away until he was left with only pain. Everything hurt again, but this time he couldn't find an anchor. Couldn't find Steve. Stark white explosions flashed behind his eyelids, and Tony sobbed as it burned.

His chest began to throb, and the pain crawled up his throat until he couldn't breathe. He couldn't...he couldn't…

"TONY! NURSE! NURSE! SOMETHING'S WRONG!"

XX

It took him another three hours to come around this time.

Steve was leaning against the wall, observing the room protectively with his arms crossed over his chest, while Rhodes sat next to Tony on the bed and Pepper took the visitor's chair. He was proud to admit that he didn't feel any twinge of jealousy over the hands each of them were holding, knowing that Tony needed all the comfort he could get right now.

When Tony's sweet, caramel brown eyes opened again, he squinted at each of their faces as he tried to make sense of the room. "Rhodey? Pep?" His voice was rough and sounded unnatural.

Everyone snapped to attention. "Tones? Hey, how are you feeling?"

Tony opened and then closed his mouth, grimacing when he found it was parched. Steve didn't hesitate to grab the water cup from the counter, toss a straw into it, and hand it to Pepper. When she pulled the drink away gingerly, Tony was able to swallow normally. "What happened?"

Both of his friends laid their hands on him, pushing the damp hair out of his face and cupping his cheek. Pepper gave him a small smile. "You had a panic attack. The doctor said that it's a symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, something that is very likely given what you've been through."

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed into Rhodes' side. "I-I thought I was dying all over again. I couldn't...I couldn't breathe."

Steve came over and sat at the foot of the bed, stroking two fingers up and down his covered calf. "It's okay, sweetheart, you're okay. You're not alone, we've got you."

He peeked up at that hesitantly, cheek still pressed against his best friend's stomach. "You won't...leave me?"

Steve's could practically feel his heart being ripped from his chest at the sound of Tony's small, broken whimper. He was hurting so much, and it was _killing_ Steve. "Of course not, love." He promises, "I'm right here."

Pepper leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tony's temple. "How would you feel about going home with Steve?" After his panic attack, Rhodes and Pepper conceded that it was the best course of action to make sure Tony felt taken care of and safe. "We talked about it, and you can go back to the apartment if you want to, but you might be more comfortable at his house."

Tony hesitated, his eyes flickering back and forth between the three of them. "I can go with Steve?"

Steve walked over, barely avoiding Rhodes as he kissed his boyfriend gently on his dry lips. "Yes, Tony. You know we can keep you safe. There's nowhere I'd rather you be."

Their gazes held as he silently reminded Tony of what he was trying to say.

The Avengers can keep you safe.

"_Please_."

XX

He was cleared to leave the hospital three extraordinary long days later. After his panic attack, Tony had a hard time sleeping, despite having his three biggest comforts in the room with him. When he wasn't sleeping, his hands shook from the anxiety, he shifted about a thousand times in his bed, and he tried to refuse help every time he went to the bathroom. Overall, he tore through thirteen stitches before he was well enough to be wheeled out to Steve's ebony black truck waiting at the front entrance.

"Mr. Stark, please remember that you are on bed rest for another week." The nurse implored, her eyes wide with exasperation. "If you have to come back to have your stitches re-sutured, Dr. Selvig is not going to be happy."

Tony grinned good naturedly and gave her a two finger salute from his wheelchair. "Message received, Darcy. I'll make sure to keep my wild sexapades to a minimum until I'm all healed up."

Steve let out a strangled cough, cheeks flushing as he frowned down at his boyfriend. Pepper and Rhodes each covered their laughter decently well, but not well enough to avoid a disapproving glare from the blonde. "There definitely won't be any of that, anytime soon, Tony." He couldn't find it in him to really be upset though, considering that Tony was feeling well enough to joke about their sex life.

Tony looked a little put out as Rhodes and Steve helped him into the backseat next to Pepper. "What? It's been over a week! That's six days too long! I need me some lovin', El Capitan."

Steve stiffened at Tony's casual use of his preferred title, but thankfully no one seemed to think anything of it. Thank goodness for Tony's overenthusiastic use of nicknames. "Tones," Rhodes chided, "be serious here for a minute." Once they were all buckled in and pulling out of the hospital's overhang, he turned around from the front seat to look his best friend in the eye. "I have to go back to the base today, but I want you to know that you can call me at any time." He reached back to take Tony's hand. "We are all here for you, okay? I love you, man."

"And I'll come by as often as I can." Pepper added, tucking one of Tony's longer curls back behind his ear. "Steve and his friends will take good care of you, but I'll come by and we can have ice cream and dish about Justin Hammer and his third failed attempt at asking out Christine Everhart."

That earned them a wet chuckle, and Tony furiously tried to wipe away the tears that escaped. "Thanks guys, I...I love you too. Really." He laughed again, stronger this time. "And Justin Hammer fails at everything he does, Pep. It's no mystery why Christine turned him down in front of the entire Debate team. You know they are just a bunch of gossips, it was the best way to ensure his sweeping embarrassment."

Even Steve grinned back at them, tilting his chin to the side while keeping his eyes on the road. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Steve's condo where Pepper and Rhodes' cars were parked outside. Bucky met them out front to help Tony out of the car while his friends said their goodbyes.

Rhodes shook Steve's hand, making him promise to call him if anything else happens, and to give him daily updates on Tony's well-being. Pepper flung her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the cheek, letting him know that she would come by to check up on Tony over the next few days. Tony grumbled at her, warning her to keep her perfectly manicured hands off of his boyfriend.

Once they were gone, Steve and Bucky helped him into the bathroom, setting him down on the closed toilet seat while Steve began running the bath. "I am more than capable of showering on my own, Steven Grant Rogers." He gritted, crossing his arms over his chest with a small wince. "I do not need a bath, nor do I need help with one."

Steve reached over to kiss his cheek, nodding his thanks to Bucky who left the room with an exasperated huff. "I know, sweetheart. But you need to get cleaned up before I tie you to that bed and never let you go, right? This also gives me an excuse to get my hands on you."

For someone so comfortable with dirty talk, Tony blushed hard when it came to more intimate jokes. He tried covering it up with a shit-eating grin, "Why Captain, if you wanted your hands all over me, all you had to do was ask."

Steve shook his head fondly, testing the water to make sure it was warm enough and grabbing a towel and washcloth to set next to the tub. "Actually sweetheart, once your feeling better, you'll be the one begging for me. Not the other way around." He raised a coy brow at his boyfriend and reached for Tony's shirt. "Now hands up."

In an instant, Tony flinched back and covered his chest with splayed hands, knocking back against the porcelain.

Steve's eyes widened, and he took a step back with his palms up. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe," He assured as gently as possible.

Tony pinched at the bride of his nose, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat. "I-I know. I know you won't, Steve. It's just…" His face twisted with shame, and he kept his eyes on the full tub. "My chest. My scars. They aren't pretty. It's...it's actually kind of horrible, really."

After a few silent beats, Steve dropped to his knees, reaching out to lightly grip Tony's downturned chin and turn it towards his own face. "Tony. Sweetheart. Do you trust me?"

Caramel brown eyes opened an inch, meeting his own blue ones, mist brimming at the edges. He gave a silent nod. In return Steve didn't say anything, just moved towards Tony's shirt, making sure to go slow enough for Tony to say no. Thankfully, he raised his arms to help without any further resistance. Steve gingerly lifted the tattered piece of clothing up and off, depositing it on the bathroom floor. He silently tracked his eyes down Tony's lean form, taking in every scratch, scar, and blemish that marred his beautiful olive-toned skin.

He could feel the heat of Tony's gaze, knowing the younger man was watching his face for any sort of reaction. In truth, Steve _burned_. He burned with fury, his blood boiling with a fierce desire and _need_ for revenge. But the people who did this to Tony were dead, the Avengers had made sure of that, and whoever was responsible for putting him in that situation in the first place would be next. Steve took comfort in that. Outwardly, he simply leaned forward and place soft, featherlike kisses along the discolored scars, careful not to harm him in any way. At the first brush of his lips, Tony tensed slightly, then relaxed with a sigh.

Steve looked up to see Tony looking at him with an unreadable expression. He brought his shaking hands up to cup Steve's face, calloused fingers tracing his jaw line. "_I love you_, Steve. Thank you for saving me."

He dropped his voice down to a whisper before he responded, making sure that Tony knew the truth in his words wholly, completely, and thoroughly. "I love you too, Tony. More than anything, and anyone. I will always come for you. _Always_." Steve moved back to his feet and kissed the love of his life gently, then pulled him up as well so that he could tug his sweatpants down until they hit the tile. He followed this by pulling off the bandages across Tony's arms and chest, depositing them into the small trash can.

Neither of them said anything further as Steve helped him into the tub, careful not to jostle Tony's injuries. The younger man hissed when he hit the water, but kept quiet until the pain seeped away. Steve wet the washcloth and added the antibacterial soap recommended by Nurse Darcy, and began applying it to Tony's body, starting at his hands, moving upwards in easy, lethargic, gradual movements to his arms and shoulders.

Before he touched Tony's chest, he cleaned his feet, legs, and back, making sure to give the same tender attention to every part of his body. Tony didn't even attempt to take the cloth from Steve or make a well-timed sex joke as he cleaned his half-hardened member, the heaviness in the air not to be cheapened by a quip. His deepest wounds very obviously stung, but still the duo kept silent, the air in the small bathroom wrought with the promise of the moment, each inhale and exhale of breath ingrained into each of their memories.

Once the rest of him was finally clean, Steve tipped Tony's chip upwards, running his fingers through the damp black curls. He massaged the shampoo into his scalp delicately, letting his hands wander down his neck to play with the smaller, finer hairs. After a few minutes of attention, Steve finally rinsed out the shampoo, leaving him finally clean.

Steve reached down to the drain and pulled, then leaned back to grab the towel. Tony watched him through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion and weariness finally making themselves known. Steve's lips twitched at the sight, and wrapped the towel around Tony's shoulders before speaking and breaking the spell. "Alright, sweetheart, you're all clean. Let's get you dried off and dressed so you can come take a nap."

Thankfully, he didn't offer much resistance. Steve set him back down onto the closed toilet seat lid and dried off any remaining water droplets. He grabbed the small container from the countertop and began applying the ointment to Tony's scars and stitches, then carefully wrapped his wounds with new bandages. After that, it didn't take long to put Tony's sweatpants and a new t-shirt on before guiding him to the bedroom.

Steve didn't move underneath the covers with the young genius, choosing to rather sit on the edge of the bed and tuck Tony in. He moved his damp hair out of his eyes, promising himself that he would ask Clint to give Tony a haircut tomorrow. Steve leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his temple, whispering, "I'll be right outside the door when you wake up. Call for me, and I'll hear you. I love you." He didn't get a response back, because Tony was already blissfully asleep, and Steve was able to breathe for the first time in a week.

Tony was here, in Steve's bed. Safe. Cared for. Protected.

He moved out to the hall, reaching back to keep the door from closing all the way, and fell down onto the couch the moment it was in sight.

Bucky smirked widely at him from the recliner, tipping his beer in Steve's direction. "Tony all settled in?"

Steve twisted onto his back, letting his hands rest across the back of his head. "Sure is. He's sleeping now."

His best friend hummed and glanced at the clock. "You'll need to go back to classes tomorrow morning, you know that right."

Aaaaand whatever relaxed, comatose state Steve was slipping into shattered, leaving only frustration. "I'm not leaving him, Buck. He's more important than class."

"Don't be an idiot, Stevie." Bucky admonished, his Brooklyn drawl leaking through his words. "You've already missed enough, your professors aren't going to be so understanding much longer. Come on, what would Tony want?"

As much as Steve hated to admit it, he had a point. Before he could try to find another reason to object, Bucky spoke again. "I've already talked to Nat, she and Sam will come over at seven when you and I have to leave, then Bruce and Clint will come over around noon. Then you'll be home to take care of him."

The thought of having Sam and Bruce come anywhere near Tony had Steve shooting up and straightening his back. "I don't…"

"No." Bucky growled, "Don't give me any bullshit about trust. You know you need to get over that."

Steve sighed, rubbing his hands across his face. It was true, he _did_ know. But reconciling his mind with his heart were two different issues all on their own. "I know, Buck. It's just hard, especially after what happened."

"How about you focus on something else until you figure it out, huh?" He suggested. Bucky reached into his pocket, pulling out Tony's phone before tossing it onto the couch. "You told me to hold onto that."

Steve cradled it between his hands, brow furrowed. "Update?"

"The Parker kid called, I told him to come by tomorrow to drop by Tony's school work. Pepper texted twice, something about a Sex and the City marathon that will be streaming on television this weekend, and…"

He glanced up, meeting Bucky's uncomfortable stare. "And?"

"His ma called."

Steve froze. "Excuse me?"

Bucky shifted in his seat, downing the rest of his beer. "His ma called, Stevie. Wanted to know who the hell I was, and where her son was. I told her that Tony had been in an accident and that he was resting. She wants to see him."

"No." He replied automatically, pushing off from the couch to pace. "His parents kicked him out. They don't have any right to come here."

"He's their son." Bucky tried. "If they want to see him, I'm not sure we can stop them."

Steve turned on his heel to face his best friend. From the way Tony's entire demeanor changed and shut down _completely _at the mention of his parents, Steve didn't think it was in anyone's best interest for them to step foot in Boston. "If Howard and Maria Stark think that they are going to come anywhere _near_ Tony, they are sorely mistaken."

XX

Tony stirred awake, unbothered by nightmares and flashbacks for the first time in a week. As he examined the unfamiliar plain walls with a frown, he remembered that he was at Steve's place. And thinking about Steve led to him remembering every goddamn second about the night before.

He might have lost about 90% of his shame early on, but the kind of intimacy that set the tone during the bath Steve gave him was something he's never experienced before. In a way, it was another outward expression of love. Steve was good at those. Tony on the other hand? Not so much. Tony wanted to fight and crawl up to his same level, to help Steve understand that Tony loved him as fiercely as Steve did him.

Tony blinked a few times and stretched, wincing as the movement caused a dull ache to flare up. Before he could think to look for some of his medication, a soft knock sounded at the door, and it opened slowly to reveal Steve. "G'morning," Tony drawled, exhaustion clear in his voice.

Steve gave him a small smile and stepped into the room, carrying a medicine capsule and a glass of water. "It's actually around seven at night, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a car." He joked, or at least, thought he was joking until he watched Steve stiffen, and remembered. "Oh fuck, I can't believe I haven't asked this yet." Tony pushed up to his elbows, eyes furrowed in panic. "Are Sam and Bruce okay? _Fuck_. Bruce was _unconscious_, and Sam was hurt, and shit if someone died because of me, I don't think I can-"

"Tony," Steve called gently, the mattress dipping next to him on the bed as he sat down and cradled the back of Tony's neck with his hand. The touch calmed him immediately, but it didn't stop the harsh breathing pattern that had started to act up. "They're okay, I promise. Both were released from the hospital before we found you." He helped Tony leaned back against the wall with a mountain of pillows, and offered him two pills and the water.

He took them without complaint, relaxing when the water felt cool against his throat. "Thank god. Can I see them?"

Steve hesitated, which was...confusing.

"Steve?" He asked cautiously.

"I just...I don't know if that's a good idea." Steve started, clearly uncomfortable with his own words. "The last time you were with them…"

And then Tony got it, and had to close his eyes to bite back on his frustration. Before he had learned that Steve was the _Captain_, he had been so goddamn _confused _when his boyfriend left him with fucking strangers to look out for him while he _left_, as if he were some kind of child. Tony had been resentful and spiteful, and people always seemed to forget that he was a genius, so they left their guard down. He was able to convince Sam and Bruce to let him spend the day in the lab, and on the way, Hydra had T-boned their car.

Of course Steve would place some kind of blame on his two friends. He had trusted them to keep Tony safe, and he ended up being taken by Hydra. There was only one problem...It was complete and utter _bullshit_.

"Steve," Tony hissed, reaching out to cup his boyfriend's outrageously strong jaw line. "It wasn't their fault." He ran the pad of his thumb along Steve's cheeks and tightened his hold. "I was the one who convinced them to leave the house. It was _my _fault."

"No, _never_." Steve insisted, his voice suddenly harsh and unrelenting. "It was not your fault that you got kidnapped, Tony. _Never _your fault."

He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Then it isn't Sam or Bruce's fault either. If Hydra really was that hell bent on taking me, then they would have gotten me at the house too. You can't possibly blame them for this."

"I don't," Steve denied, but it was weak. "I...I don't. I just…" He took a deep breath. "I _left _you. I was too stubborn to involve you in my business, and I left you with my friends. The second I left your side, everyone got hurt. _You _were hurt." His voice was rough now, and Tony could see a watery mist pooling at the corner of Steve's eyes.

Tony frowned. Steve didn't blame his friends. Not really. He blamed _himself_.

"If it's not my fault," Tony reasoned, "And it's not their fault, then it sure as hell isn't your fault." He wiped at the unshed tears, bringing them closer to lightly kiss his temples. "All of this happened because someone at my company is double dealing. Someone there worked with Hydra, and it's _their _fault that I was hurt. You and your friends are the only reason I'm alive."

_I guess they were having this conversation now_, Tony thought. It seemed like the best transition point. He steeled himself and leaned back against the pillows, threading his fingers through Steve's. "I'm alive because of the _Avengers_."

Steve seemed to realize where this was headed as well, because he rearranged himself on the bed and hung his head. "I'm sorry for not telling you, Tony. I can understand if you don't want to be with someone like me, I wouldn't blame you. Not after what I've done."

"Okay, stop. Timeout. Pause." He cut off with a slice of his hand. "Do you have any idea how okay I am with this? No, seriously." Tony locked their gazes together. "I was a little bit in love with you back in New York. I knew Hydra was using SI's weapons, but I couldn't do anything about it. After hearing about the Captain and his Howling Commandos fighting back, and actually _gaining _ground, I wanted to do so much more than just root for you from the sidelines. You…" He broke eye contact and blushed down at the sheets. No way he could find the courage to admit this to Steve's baby blues. "You were my hero. And then I move to Boston and you managed to beat their asses _again_, saving me in the process."

Tony shrugged, tilting his head back up and smirking at Steve. "Sure, I wish you wouldn't have kept it from me, but I understand why you didn't. Considering who I am...I'm actually surprised that you dated me at all." He frowned, brow furrowing as he actually thought through the situation. "Actually, how can you even stand to be in a relationship with me? After all that I did-"

It was Steve's turn to cut him off, but this time by pressing his lips against Tony's, sucking the breath right out of him. "Sweetheart, I'm not sure if you remember this, but I didn't even know your last name was actually Stark until the night before the attack. But," he added hurriedly, seeing Tony's shoulders slump in defeat, "Even if I did, it wouldn't have changed how I feel about you."

Tony scoffed, "Yeah right. If you would have known I was a Stark, you wouldn't have come within fifty feet of me."

"I don't know about that." Steve countered thoughtfully. "We might not have gotten to know each other the way we did, but I don't think I would have been able to stay away from you for long."

Tony didn't understand, and he voiced as much to the older man.

Steve tilted his head as he considered this. "It's kind of hard to explain. Basically, I get these _feelings _about people. Kind of like an overactive gut, _instinctive _feeling. It tells me things about people. Kind of." He frowned, unhappy with the inability to articulate. "It's how I choose my teams. When I meet someone, I just _know _that they are meant to be a part of my life. A part of my team. It's how I chose the Howling Commandos, back when we were all deployed in the same unit. They followed Bucky and I back to New York, so it turned out to be the right choice. And it's how I built the Avengers."

"So…" Tony started, "you had this weird sixth sense feeling about me?"

Steve grinned at that, unable to fight back the smile that came from remembering the day in the coffee shop. "I can promise you, sweetheart, that I've never felt anything like it before I met you. My mind was basically screaming at me to wrap you up and never let you out of my sight. But somehow, I didn't think that was the best approach to get you to talk to me again."

A bubble of laughter escaped his throat, and he was pleased when the movement didn't hurt as bad as he expected. "Honestly, I'm not even sure I would have objected all that much. Have you _seen _you?" Tony's eyes widened in realization. "So the run in at the store…"

Steve had the gall to look embarrassed. "I might have had Clint tail you for a bit. I knew you needed to be protected, plus I just wanted to make sure that I ran into you again!" He groaned, leaning back so that he was stretched out on the bedspread over Tony's legs and covered his face with his hands. "Now you probably think I'm some kind of stalker."

"Maybe a little," Tony admitted. "But honestly I don't mind all that much," he shrugged, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'm into it."

"You're into it?" Steve asked incredulously. "I tell you that I basically had one of the members of my _gang _stalk you for a week, and you aren't even mad?"

Things started clicking in his mind. "_That_ was how you knew I was in danger." Tony whispered. "You knew someone else was watching me."

The air turned tense again, and Steve nodded somberly. "Yes. I needed to get you back here, and double check with Clint that he hadn't gone against my orders. If you felt someone watching you, I trusted your instincts."

Tony didn't say anything for a few long minutes, trying to wrap his mind around the truth now that it was finally laid out in front of him. "You saved me." He decided that particular piece trumped everything else. "I don't care about the rest of it."

Steve turned his bright, crystal blue eyes on him, and Tony relaxed at the sight of them. No one had ever looked at him like that before. With so much...love.

"Tony...are you sure? You don't know the things I've done...the kind of man I really am."

"Then tell me." He suggested, and brushed past the look that darkened Steve's face. "No, really. Steve, nothing that you tell me is going to change the way I feel about you. Whatever you've done as your time as the Captain, I believe you did because you thought it was the right thing to do. And," He added, sensing that this was important. "I'm not going to ask you to stop."

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes disbelieving. "You...really?"

The corners of Tony's lips twitched. "Yes, really. You and your team do really important work. You stop people that the police are either too ignorant to touch or are too corrupt to pursue. I wasn't lying when I said I fell a little bit in love with you in New York. I love who you are. I love _all_ of it."

"I don't...I don't know what to say." Steve muttered, the heels of his hands digging across his face. Tony pulled them away and sunk back down into the bed, exhaustion taking over again. Steve maneuvered them around so that he was under the covers, Tony resting in the crook between his outstretched arm and his chest. "I love you too, Tony Stark." Steve kissed his temple and ran his fingers along Tony's curls. "Sleep now."

It didn't take long for darkness to overtake him again, but this time it was with a pleased smile on his face.

XX

"Steve, seriously, it's fine!" Tony groaned dramatically, pushing at his boyfriend's unmovable chest.

"But Tony-"

"Nope." He wasn't having it this morning. Steve might be stubborn, but he was about to find out that Tony could match him shot for shot. "You're going to class. You've already missed a full week, and if you don't finish that final project, you won't be able to finish the semester off, and then you can't drive across the country with me over the summer before I start my company because you'll be stuck here trying to make up the credits before the fall semester begins." Tony sucked in a breath, then tried to give Steve his best smile, teeth and all.

"Seriously, go to class. You've been working so hard, and you love your work. I want to see it, and I can't see it if you don't finish it." He tried pushing again, pleased when Steve finally moved off the bed. "I'll be fine. Your friends are going to stay with me, I'll be here when you get back. I promise."

Steve only hesitated for another moment before leaning down to kiss Tony squarely on the mouth. "I'm going to hold you to that. Please, please don't leave the house. Please wait for me."

He snorted, patting Steve on the cheek once more. "That's only going to fly while I'm recovering, Cap."

"I know." He said fondly, backing up towards the door. "That's why I'm taking advantage now."

"Have fun at school, darling. Paint something pretty for me." Tony winked and blew him a kiss, laughing loudly when Steve rolled his eyes before finally leaving.

Once he was alone, Tony sighed and took the two pills waiting for him on the bedside table then washed it down with the water Steve left. He still ached, but the pain wasn't as sharp this morning, and Tony felt pretty good about his chances of walking around without any help.

Unfortunately, before he could attempt it, the door opened again to reveal Natasha and Sam, the latter a little bruised up himself with a bandage above his right eyebrow.

"How are you feeling, Tony?" She asked, as beautiful and deadly as he remembered her.

He shrugged. "I'm doing fine. Just dandy, actually. I'm more worried about Mr. Badass over here."

Sam gave him a shaky grin, swallowing heavily. "I'm good, man. I just...I just wanted to say that I'm-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence." Tony warned, his eye twitching in the process. "It wasn't your fault. It was Hydra's, and whoever told Hydra about me."

The man nodded, rubbing a hand at the nape of his neck. "Yeah, I just...feel bad, you know? Bruce and I were supposed to protect you."

Tony shrugged, looking between the two. "There was nothing you could have done, and the only thing to do now is move on. You know how I'm going to do that, don't you?"

Natasha smirked, "You want to help us find the rat."

"No," he disagreed, tilting his chin up. "_You're_ going to be helping _me_."

"Oh, I like you." She decided, coming over and joining him on the bed, her back against the wall and shoulder touching Tony's. "I'm going to keep you."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Can I get you anything to eat? I was going to make some breakfast."

"Sam makes the best omelettes," Natahsa supplied, and Tony nodded.

"That would be great, thanks."

Once Sam left the room, Natasha made herself more comfortable, digging under the covers alongside Tony. He wasn't going to lie, he really loved the casual comfort she was offering. "Tell me a story." Tony asked, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"What kind of story?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "About the Avengers. I know Steve's backstory, and a little bit of Bucky's from what Steve's mentioned, but I don't know about the rest of you guys."

She let him lean his head against her shoulder as she thought about it. "Sure, but only because you're basically one of us now."

He chuckled, "Oh, trust me, I fully intend on joining your little fight club, Widow. Just wait until you see the plans I have for you…"

"In that case," She started easily, "you should know that we don't follow Steve because we _have_ to. We follow him because we _want_ to. He saved our lives, one way or another, but never expected anything in return."

Tony mulled it over for a few long seconds. "How did he save you?"

"It was Barton and I, actually. You know how there is that one person in your life, that for whatever circumstances brought you together, they make you better? They always have your back?"

He nodded against her shoulder, eyes not quite focusing on anything around the room as she spoke. Rhodey was his person.

"That's who Clint is to me. A year ago, I got myself tangled up with some bad people. Clint tried coming in to break up the party, but they just went after him too. We can handle ourselves, trust me on that. But when you are out-manned and out-gunned...sometimes there isn't a way out."

Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know the details of the mess she was talking about. He didn't like picturing anyone in that sort of situation.

"Both of us were forced to set down our weapons, and we knew that was it. They practically had to rip Clint's bow right out of his hands," Natasha remembered with a tilt of her lips. "We heard the cock of the gun, sure that were were about to die...and then the man who was aiming for us dropped to the floor with a bullet between his eyes. Just like that."

"Just like that?"

"_Someone_ was up in the rafters, taking out the first line of our enemies, the silencer still on his weapon. Six men dropped around us, and it was enough of a distraction for Clint and I to grab our weapons and join the fight. Ten minutes later, we stood alone, completely out of ammo and the only ones left alive, while The _Captain_ trained his gun on us."

Natasha sighed, resting her own head atop of Tony's. "I thought that was going to be it, the end of the line. But he asked us to explain ourselves, gave us a chance, and when we gave him a bullshit answer at first, he shot Clint right in the thigh. Straight through my hip"

Tony jerked up, knocking them out of their comfortable position. "He did _what_?"

That was when Sam decided to enter the room, hands juggling a tray full of food and a tumblr of coffee. "What's going on in here?"

"Steve _shot _Natasha?" Tony asked incredulously, eyes wide.

They both made eye contact, worry giving way to laughter. Sam set the food down on Tony's lap and pulled up a chair to sit beside the pair on the bed. "Well...yeah. He's the _Captain_, Tony. One of the most powerful mafia bosses in the country. He's pretty handy with a gun."

Natasha shrugged her shoulders in agreement, "We shouldn't have lied to him, we knew how dangerous he was, heard rumors about how he operated. Once we came clean, it seemed to be enough for him, and he drove us to the emergency room. Paid for all of our medical bills, too." She knocked against him with a dazzling smile. "That's why we follow him. He's a good man, Tony, his heart is in the right place. Works outside of the law, sure, but him and Bucky save a lot of people doing what they're doing. We just wanted a piece of that. You could say I wanted to make some moves towards wiping my ledger clean."

He let that information sink in, nibbling on the food while Natasha and Sam talked amongst themselves. Once he successfully cleared his plate, Sam took the tray and exchanged it for coffee, which Tony eagerly lapped up. They asked about his interests, his school, his friends, like they actually _cared_ about the answers.

It was...new.

He liked it.

While he was wading through his feelings on Steve's seemingly Don Vito Corleone alter-ego, he wanted to get more information on the Avengers.

"So, Wilson, how did you end up joining the super secret boy band? Heard you were the first new recruit."

The older man's face twisted into a handsome smirk, and he leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the bed. "Damn straight I was. Cap didn't even know what he was missing 'til I showed up."

Both Tony and Natasha did absolutely nothing to hide their snorts. Sam laughed good naturedly, then cocked his head, suddenly a little serious. "You should know somethin' Tony.

Tony raises an interested eyebrow.

"You're good for him. You helped him get back to his old self."

"His old self?"

Both Avengers nodded, "Back when I first met him, he was cool, you know? Not so easy going, but pretty laid back once you maneuvered your way around his walls. Bucky mentioned that he left a lot of his tension behind in New York. I didn't realize just how much until we started up on missions."

"We didn't really notice at first, you know? Not until the whole gang came together. He started to sink back into himself, withdraw away from us, put school on the back burner, that kind of stuff. Cap got really into his missions, more focused on getting through those than on life itself, you know?"

Tony didn't know, though. He had his own experiences with unhealthy coping, sure, like spending ridiculously long hours in the lab and refusing to answer his friends' phone calls after a particularly rough fight with his dad. That kind of stuff. But the Steve Tony knew wasn't like what Sam was describing at all. His Steve was sweet, attentive, outgoing, and even _relaxed_ when he wasn't hell bent on protecting Tony.

He wondered what happened.

"And then you came along." Well, that answered that question. "All of a sudden, he was back to his old self, back to being _Steve_, rather than the Captain."

Sam gave him a toothy grin. "So thanks, for bringing my buddy back, Tony. Back to the guy I met at some hole-in-the-wall dive bar."

Tony blushed, then realized that he hadn't heard this story yet. "Dive bar?"

"You heard me. It's a place a few veterans hang out, nothing fancy. Steve happened to sit next to me at the bar, and we hit it off. Next thing I know, some little shit comes in with his frat buddies, running his mouth about a bunch of nonsense he doesn't really understand. Everyone tried their best to ignore them, but they got into the face of one of the older guys, and well, someone threw the first punch."

He chuckled as he remembered, resting his hands back behind his head. "I tried to stay out of it, but one of them smashed a bottle on a table and came after me. I barely had time to blink before Steve twisted the poor bastard's arm back behind him and snapped it. Didn't take long for his buddies to find out who the real threat was. They jumped us like fleas on a dog, and Steve just...became this other person. The sweet, homegrown boy I was just talking to turned into this badass super soldier, tearing through these guys like it was nothing. Five minutes later, they were all groaning on the ground with broken wrists and dislocated shoulders. Then the smug bastard sat back down, ordered another drink, and turned to me with a smile."

Tony blinked, utterly and completely blown away. After seeing the Avengers in action back at the Hydra base, he thought he couldn't be surprised anymore. Turns out, he had just been dying, and that tended to skew his ability to perceive and understand things correctly.

"So...Steve basically just picked you up at a bar? And you became an Avenger?"

Sam shrugged, "After a display like that, I wanted to know more about whatever it was he was willing to share. Turns out, we had very similar mindsets. He invited me back to meet Bucky, and well, the rest is history."

Tony wasn't quite sure what to think. He hadn't been expecting to hear that Steve was so..._violent_. Before finding out that he was the Captain, there had always been an undercurrent of _something_. Something different. Dangerous. But the feeling was never directed towards him, so Tony never even thought twice about it. In hindsight, he actually doubted his title as a genius, considering he never put two and two together.

He couldn't hold back the yawn that snuck up on him, and Natasha ran her fingers through his hair. "Go ahead and get some rest. Either us or Clint and Bruce will be here when you wake up."

Tony wanted to protest, and he damn well tried, but his mouth didn't seem to be connected to his brain anymore. Sam just let out a quiet bark of laughter and pushed off from his chair, tucking Tony's blankets snug against his sides. "Sleep, Tony. You'll be on your feet in no time."

XX

As promised, the next time he opened his eyes, Natasha and Sam were gone, replaced with Clint and Bruce. Rather than either of them sharing his space on the bed, they must have elected to drag another chair into the room.

Bruce noticed that he was awake and his eyes softened behind his glasses. "Tony, hi. How are you feeling?"

Tony moved to push himself up into a seated position, but Clint was there in an instant helping him put his back against the wall. "Thanks," Tony offered with a smile, "I'm feeling alright. Glad to see you're okay."

"I'm fine. A little banged up, but nothing I can't heal from with time. Tony, I am so, so-"

"I've already given Sam this speech about not needing to apologize, do I have to give it to you too?"

Bruce pursed his lips while Clint sniggered. "I suppose not. I wanted to try though. Steve…" he sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Steve still blames us, I think."

Tony shook his head, "He doesn't. Trust me."

"I don't know about that…"

"I do." He insisted. "Steve is angry he left me in the first place, but he isn't mad at you two, not really. He just needs a little help directing his anger in a new direction."

Clint smirked, "Like taking down the bastards who are responsible for Hydra taking you."

Tony agreed with a short nod, "Exactly, Legolas."

Bruce sighed again, pushing up from his chair and disappearing behind the bedroom door for a few seconds before returning with the bottle of his pain reliever, a glass of water, and a first aid kit.

"It's time to redress your wounds, come on."

With Clint's help, he was repositioned to the side of the bed where his legs could hang off the side and touch the floor. Clint ran his fingers through Tony's hair, sorting through the curly strands. "Cap asked if I could give you a haircut too. What do you say? I promise not to shave it all off."

Tony only hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "I guess if Steve trusts you not to mutilate my gorgeous locks, I'll allow it."

They kept up a light banter as Bruce took off the gauze and cleaned his wounds, which weren't as painful as the day before. When they had the clean bandages wrapped around, Tony swallowed the two pills offered and downed a glass of water. He wasn't hungry again just yet, so he let Clint take a pair of scissors to his hair.

"Brucie-bear, tell me how you ended up with this rag-tag group of misfits to keep me from elbowing Clint in the crotch."

A snort came from behind him. "You do that and I'm not responsible for what these babies cut off." He snapped the scissors dangerously close to his ear, and Tony laughed out loud. It felt nice to joke around with people again, people who didn't want anything from him besides his friendship.

"Since you asked so nicely…" Bruce began with a rueful smile, getting comfortable in the other chair across the room. "I'm not exactly the most popular ex-government employee…"

Again, Clint snorted. Tony was starting to think he was doing it on purpose to spew things into his hair. "That might be the understatement of the century."

Bruce shot an unimpressed look over Tony's shoulder. "I was a scientist in an underground sector of the government. I headed experiments in Gamma radiation with my...fiance," He swallowed painfully around the world. "Her father was a general in the army, and barely tolerated me, at best. I wasn't exactly the strong and stoic man he always pictured his daughter marrying."

He rubbed the heel of his hand against his face while loose pieces of hair fell onto Tony's shoulders. "One evening, something went wrong. One of our rodent test subjects reacted to the radiation in a way we never expected. It was...horrifying, to say the least." Bruce shuddered, and Tony refrained from asking him to explain further.

"I wanted to shut down the experiment immediately. It was too dangerous on so many levels, and the government's end goal was to use the potential serum on _humans_. It just wasn't feasible, and there was no telling what might happen if they ever followed through with that." He shook his head in disgust. "When I confronted the General about it, I was basically told to keep my mouth shut, and continue with my work. Even moved up the timeline on human experimentation."

A frown tugged at the corner of Tony's lips. "I get the feeling that you didn't exactly roll over like a good little scientist."

Bruce gave him a small smile. "You'd be right. I destroyed the lab. Every single piece of equipment and all of my data, demolished. I didn't leave behind any trace of the experiment, which means they didn't have any hope of replicating it without me. As you can imagine, the General and his associates weren't too pleased with my work."

He stood up and walked over to Tony, shooing away the scissors so that he could run a hand through Tony's new cut. "I went into hiding, and that's where Steve found me. I guess the Avengers had gotten a tip from their friends in the government."

Tony looked over his shoulder at Clint for an explanation, who was checking over his work. "You'd be surprised at the kind of contacts we have, kid. Nat brought the information to Cap, and we spent two months trying to track Banner down."

"Steve found me in a run down motel in Salem. I thought that was the end of the line for me, that the General had found me." Bruce shrugged and held a hand out to help Tony up from his chair. "But he just told me what a big fan of my work he was, and offered me protection."

He led him to the bathroom so he could take a look in the mirror, and Tony blinked in surprise. He looked at least a few years older, and sharper than he had in a long time, if you overlooked his injuries. "I wasn't sure about his offer at first, not until the first agent came sniffing around."

Tony's eyes widened, suddenly worried that the General's people would find Bruce and take him away. The two Avengers must have understood the look on his face, because they shot comforting smiles his way. Client clapped a careful hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Tony. I spotted them from miles away, and Cap somehow threw off their trail and sent them down to Kentucky. Still don't know how he did it."

"Steve is a good man." Bruce implored, helping him back onto the bed. Tony wasn't about to admit it, but he was feeling pretty worn down again. "He takes care of his own, and he's going to take care of you."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, grabbing a broom from the closet and sweeping up the loose hair on the ground. "You more than the rest of us, and that's saying something."

Tony chewed on the bottom of his lip and accepted a glass of water and pain pills Bruce offered him. "I don't know about that, he's known the Avengers for much longer than he's known me."

"Don't be stupid," Clint chided. "If you weren't half out of your mind when we found you in the Hydra warehouse, you might have seen the look on Cap's face and _known_ that that man would move heaven and hell for you."

"He's right, Tony. It might be a tad barbaric, but in Steve's eyes, you _belong _to him. He's going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

A heaviness settled over Tony's eyes, and he had the feeling that he should probably be bothered by the Avengers' take on his relationship with Steve. However, the more he thought about it, the safer he felt. He _belonged _to Steve, just as much as _Steve _belonged to _him_.

"Get some sleep. We'll be here when you wake up." Bruce muttered softly, clicking off the light in the room.

Tony hummed, happy and warm, and let sleep overtake him once again.

XX

Peter was there the next time Tony stirred, along with Bucky and...some greek god of a man. He was leaning against the back wall, chatting easily with an anxious Peter, wearing a giant, goofy smile on his face. Tony figured this was the famous Thor he had yet to meet. The man before him certainly fit the bill. Bucky watched the two with an air of caution, but must have sensed that Peter was relatively harmless. Tony let his eyes wander over Bucky's metal arm for a few moments, cataloguing the whirr and clicks, before clearing his throat.

"You know I can fix that, right?" All three sets of eyes snapped to his, and Peter flung himself onto his feet.

"Mr. Stark! Are you okay?"

He hovered slightly over the bed, and Tony gave his chest a little push so that he would back up a few steps. "I'm fine, Underoos, and how many times have I told you to call me Tony?" He jutted his chin out towards the two Avengers. "Are these guys giving you a hard time?"

Bucky's sharp gaze narrowed in on Tony, who brushed it off without a second thought. Peter, on the other hand, fidgeted and fought against the faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "Right, Mr.-uh, Tony." The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "Mr. Barnes and Mr. Odinson were nice enough to let me wait here and work on some assignments until you woke up."

At the mention of his name, Thor pushed off from the wall, grinning widely, and held out a hand. "Anthony, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard much about you from my comrades."

Tony squirmed in bed so that his back was resting against the wall and took the offered hand. "Don't believe everything you hear." Tony shot him a quick wink before furrowing his brow and turning to Bucky. "And Barnes, don't you know that it's impolite to watch people sleep? Creepy might actually be the word I'm looking for."

Bucky looked unperturbed. "You know the rules, Stark." He grumbled. "Eyes stay on you at all times. You won't find anyone here who's willing to deviate from Stevie's _request_." By the way he said it, plus the air quotes, Tony knew that the constant supervision was an order, rather than a simple request.

"You are absolutely no fun." Tony pouted as he rolled his eyes, before shooting Peter a grin. "Alright, Underoos, what have you got for me? Has the engineering department completely fallen apart without me?"

Surprisingly, it was Thor who huffed out a laugh at his little joke. Tony smirked, happy to know that an Avenger other than Clint had a sense of humor. It even earned him a small smile from Peter. "Nice to meet you, Point-Break. Thanks for uh…" The corners of his lips twitched upwards, "for helping move all of my crap here. I feel a lot safer knowing you're looking out for me."

He smirked and looked back expectantly towards Peter. "We've definitely missed your lectures, but Hank Pym is keeping us up to date while you're out. Your professors gave me a few assignments for you, but the general consensus was for you to keep working on your final project. Apparently everyone is looking forward to the big reveal."

"Damn straight." Tony sniffed haughtily, then softened his tone. "Thanks, kiddo. I really appreciate you taking care of all of that for me."

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, but the red twinge of his cheeks gave him away. "It's no problem, Mr. Stark. Your Advanced Robotics class is my favorite, and you've really done a lot to help me learn this year with all of the extra tutoring."

Tony flashed him a cocky grin. "That's because you're almost as smart as me, and I want you on my side when you end up taking over the world."

Thor clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder, shaking him a bit, and his voice boomed. "I believe this young man would make a fine ruler, as long as he has a clever council in his corner."

With a chuckle, the student handed over a folder filled with the work Tony missed. He flipped through it for a moment before setting it to the side and pulling off Steve's comforter. Bucky and Thor were on their feet instantly, holding out anxious hands, to which Tony rolled his eyes at again. "I am perfectly capable of using the bathroom by myself. Once I perform that miraculous feat, then Pete can help me go through my work."

"You...need my help?" Peter asked incredulously.

Tony couldn't help but snort as he pushed off of the bed, slapping away their hands. "No, Underoos. I'm offering to let an undergrad help me with my doctoral busy work. I'm still your tutor, right? No better way to learn than starting on advanced material."

Peter's eyes were wide with excitement as he nodded. "Yes!"

"Then go move that stuff to the kitchen table. We can work in there."

Bucky frowned at him next to the bathroom door. "Stark, you should really-"

"I'm fine." He promised, and proceeded to slam the door in Bucky's face. Tony resisted the urge to groan as he relieved himself. He was still in pain, but it was manageable. He wasn't about to complain though, and have Steve running back and try to usher him back into bed. _No fucking way_. Tony had _things to do_ and _weapons to build_.

The Avengers didn't know it yet, but Tony was out for revenge, and he planned to do it by making sure his new friends were outfitted with everything they needed to make the inner circle at Stark Industries pay for what they did to Tony. He already had plans for a new, more durable and aerodynamic shield for Steve, a weaponized bow and explosive arrows for Clint, a deadly electric baton for Natasha, a set of wings for Sam, and fixing Bucky's monstrosity of a metal arm. Seriously, that thing needed a thorough cleaning and an upgrade. Plus, Tony needed to have a nice sit down chat with Thor and figure out his weapon of choice. He deserved nice things too.

When he opened the door, Bucky was waiting for him looking...nervous. Tony grimaced, and distributed his weight so that he could stand without help. "What's up, Barnes?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Obviously," Tony drawled with a pop of his eyebrow. Bucky huffed in annoyance and jerked his head to Tony and Steve's bedroom. Obviously he wanted a little privacy.

He helped Tony in with an offered arm, guiding him to a chair rather than the bed, for which Tony was grateful. "Okay, hit me."

Bucky took a deep breath, checked over his shoulder, and let the air out when he turned back to Tony. "Your ma's been calling."

Tony stiffened, feeling as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. Dread seeped into his veins, and Tony let out a strangled sound. "_What_?"

"You heard me. She's been calling, checking up on you. Stevie doesn't want her to visit."

"Fuck." Tony ran an agitated hand through his newly cut hair. "_Fuck_."

Bucky grunted in agreement. "Was he right to keep her away?"

Tony didn't even hesitate to respond. "Yes," he answered earnestly. "I don't want to see, or talk to my mother." The bitterness in his tone didn't go unnoticed, if the questioning look Bucky gave him was any indication.

"She stood by and watched as my father cut me off." He chewed on the inside of the cheek with a heavy frown tugging at his lips. "She watched as he put his cigarettes out on my arm, threw me down the stairs, added rings to his fingers before smacking me around." Tony hissed in frustration. "My mother sat back and did _nothing_ to save me. I don't know why she's calling now, but I don't want to see her."

Tension swirled around in the room, and Bucky watched him with darkened eyes. He didn't say anything for a few long moments, and when he did, the soldier crouched down in front of Tony so that they were at eye level. "We will protect you, Stark, and find whoever brought your name to Hydra. You don't need to worry about that." Bucky hesitated for a moment. "But everything you're feeling right now? That anger and heartache? It's only going to hurt you. Your parents are shitty people, and they hurt you in a way no parent should ever hurt a child. But that bitterness is going to hold you back from living your life, from moving forward."

Tony scoffed, "Isn't that a basic requirement to join the Avengers? From what I've heard, all of you are masters at holding grudges."

"_Exactly_." Bucky whispered. "We're living this life because we let ourselves be ruled by our hate and need for revenge. You're better than that, Stark. You can be with us and still have a life outside of this." He reached out to squeeze Tony's shoulder. "You're going to change the world, Stark, Lord knows Stevie told us enough times. Don't let demons from your past destroy your future. Just...think about it."

Tony swallowed and looked down, giving a little nod to show that he understood. He heard what Bucky was telling him, he did, but Tony didn't think there was any practicality to it. He would _never _forgive his parents for the way they treated him, for the decisions they made that cost the lives of so many innocent people. He shook off that line of thinking and struggled to push himself up, waving away Bucky's hand.

He managed to shuffle out to the kitchen table without any help, and collapsed into one of the chairs. Bucky glared at him for a few more seconds before scoffing and depositing himself onto the couch in the living room. Peter and Thor took seats on either side of Tony, eyes wide and earnest and ready to learn. He fought the urge to snort at the eager Avenger, but buckled down to walk him through the advanced material in front of them and answer any questions. If Thor really wanted to learn, then who was Tony to deny him?

They spent a few hours working through all of the assignments, much longer than it would have taken him on his own, but both Peter and Thor were good students. They let him talk through things first, and spoke up when they didn't understand something. It was more advanced than anything either of them had seen before, but they absorbed the information readily.

By the time they finished, Tony's eyes were drooping heavily. Peter helped him stand and gave him an awkward side hug as he left, promising to return next week with another set of assignments to work through. Thor and Bucky ushered him back into Steve's bed, but Tony wasn't about to miss out on hearing the origin story of the last Avenger. He reached out to grab ahold of Thor's arm when he tried walking away.

"Hold up there, Point-Break. I'm going to need a bedtime story. I only fall asleep to the thrilling tales of the Avengers. Soon, I'll ask Steve to make a comic book with all of your adventures. It would sell out within a week."

Thor's smile was practically beaming, and he looked over at a disgruntled Bucky, who nodded with a frown. "You'll rest after though, right?"

Tony hummed his assent. Thor sat in the too-small chair, propping his feet up on the bed as Tony settled in, and intertwined his own fingers before laying them across his chest.

"Friend Tony, do you wish to know how I came to fight alongside my comrades?"

"Yes, please." He nodded, getting comfortable under the sheets.

Thor's eyes crinkled when his lips twitched upwards. He was exceedingly pleasant to be around. "As you know, I hail from Norway. My father, Odin, reigns as the current Monarch."

Tony blinked. Thor was an actual fucking _prince_. Holy shit.

"I handled trade as part of my father's council for many years, alongside my brother, Loki."

"Your family is sure into Norse mythology, huh?"

Thor grinned, absurdly proud of that fact. "Aye, it is a grand tradition. Strong names for a strong family." His mouth twisted into a tired frown, a look that didn't belong on his face. "My brother recently found out that he was adopted, which makes him no less of my brother in my eyes, but Loki did not see it that way. He grew angry and rebellious, and began making trouble back home. After a particularly nasty fight with my father, Loki disappeared one night, and came here to America."

"I was sent here to retrieve my brother, to talk sense into him. I met our dear Captain during my travels." Tony strained to keep his eyes open, eager to hear about Steve. "He had many connections here in the States, and it did not take us long to locate him. Unfortunately, Loki was in a rather precarious position." Thor rubbed at the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "My brother had found himself entertwined with a drug cartel, hooked on a hallucinogenic known as LSD."

Both Tony and Bucky grimaced at the thought while Thor continued. "Friend Steven used his position as the Captain to free my brother from his debts, and assisted me in putting Loki through rehabilitation so that he could regain his mind. Once his body was purified of the wretched substance, I brought Loki home. I was back home assisting in negotiations between my father and brother when Friend Steven met you. I owe him a life debt, and I am bound to serve under a great man when called upon."

"I...literally have no idea what to say to that, Thor buddy." Tony blinked, sluggish and intrigued all at once. "I'm glad your brother isn't on acid anymore, but shouldn't you be home? I'm safe now, and it sounds like you've got a lot of shit to deal with."

Thor gave him a soft smile and pushed to his feet. He followed Bucky out the door and moved to turn off the light. "You, Anthony Stark, are not safe until the villains behind your kidnapping are behind bars or rotting in the ground. I trust my Captain, and I gave my oath to come to his aid whenever I am needed. As long as Friend Steven, the Avengers, or you, Anthony, need me, I shall remain here."

XX

The next two weeks went on pretty much the same way, with Steve begrudgingly going to class, his friends keeping a close eye on Tony as he recovered, and all of them working together to fend off Maria Stark's phone calls. After sixteen days, he was feeling like his old self, and it was driving everyone else absolutely _nuts_.

"Stark, I swear to god, if you screw with our toaster any more, that damn thing is going to become _sentient_. And if that happens, I'll be forced to throw it out the window, and you along with it."

Tony scoffed, unperturbed. "Steve would never let you do that."

"I don't know about that, Tony. I might be on Sam's side on this one. A sentient toaster might be crossing the line." The man in question answered from his spot leaning against the doorframe, smirking fondly.

Tony clutched his chest In faux disbelief. "And here I thought that the love of my life would back me up under _any_ circumstances. Good to know where he draws the line."

Steve rolled his eyes, looking positively delicious, and suddenly Tony was desperate to receive a clean bill of health. "You want to know what I think? I think we need to get you the hell out of this house."

Without a second thought, Tony burst out of his seat onto his feet, throwing his hands up in the air. To everyone's great pleasure, he didn't so much as wince in pain at the movement. "Yes! _Please_! Get me _the hell _out of here!"

Sam snickered, then bit at his lip and looked over to Steve, who nodded. The two Avengers grabbed the keys and light jackets before ushering Tony out the door, careful not to jostle his still healing chest as he stepped down through the threshold.

"Well, where to, Tones?" Sam asked, tossing the keys to Steve.

Tony didn't even hesitate as he told them, "the Avengers' warehouse."

Both men stopped in their tracks, raising an expectant eyebrow at the young man. "Uh, why would you want to go there?" Sam asked.

"Well, I'd like to get a goddamn cheeseburger on the way. But we're going to the warehouse so I can finally get started on your new gear."

Sam looked positively ecstatic while Steve's frown deepened to the point that Tony was afraid it would get stuck like that. "Tony, what are you talking about?"

Well, no use beating around the bush now. He hopped in the truck and shut the door, waiting for the two Avengers to follow his lead. Once they were both inside the truck, he gave them his best Stark smile. "The Avengers need new gizmos and gadgets, Rogers. I'm your man. You can't keep going on with the outdated equipment you've been using, someone's going to get hurt. And Steve, _darling_, Burger King works fine."

Steve shot him a frustrated look, but pulled out from the driveway towards the highway. "You're _not _making weapons for the Avengers. That's the entire reason why you aren't with your father's company anymore, you're your own person."

"And _as_ my own person, I can very well make my own decisions." Tony snapped back, harsher than he anticipated. He took a breath to calm himself down and leaned back against the leather. "I stopped working for Stark Industries because the weapons I was making were hurting innocent people. Hydra was somehow getting ahold of them and using them in their gang wars." His tone softened. "But the Avengers are different. You want to make Boston safer, like the Howling Commandos did with New York. I want to help with that. Plus…" he trailed, giving a slightly sheepish cough. "I want to make the bastards who hurt me pay. The Avengers can't do that unless you've got the right tools."

Steve huffed out an annoyed breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. At the drive-through, he ordered for the three of them, paid, and handed out the food when he pulled up to the window.

Tony's moan was positively obscene as he took a bite, and he delighted in the fact that Steve's ears burned a bright pink. "There's no use in denying me," he reasoned with a lazy shrug. "I'll be working on it with or without your help. At least if I'm with you, I'll get a cool nickname."

"Man's got a point." Sam smirked, half-turning in the passenger seat so that he was facing Tony. "Give the man what he wants, I want some cool new toys. We've got plenty of dough from the Hydra score."

Steve grit his teeth, but bit into his food just the same. He was silent for a while as he drove on, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He got like this sometimes, quiet and brooding as he deliberated over an important choice. Even Tony, who was known for his incessant banter, knew better than to interrupt when Steve closed off from his friends.

After a few minutes, he jerked the steering wheel into a hard left and his jaw clicked. "Fine."

Tony and Sam both perked up in their seats. "Dude, really?" The Avenger exclaimed with his lips stretched wide.

"Yes. If Tony wants to be a part of the Avengers, then I trust him."

His statement was so absolute, so devoid of hesitation that Tony suddenly had to fight off a swell of hot tears. His chest fluttered with gratitude, and he was pleased when there wasn't a twinge of pain at the warm intrusion. No one had _ever_ trusted him like this before, like he was someone to be depended on in critical situations, such as the missions the Avengers encountered. Usually, once someone got it into their heads that Tony was weak, injured, or no longer useful, people tended to ignore whatever came out of his mouth after the fact.

Maria Stark hit that point once Tony became too wiley and unpredictable to show off at events. When he was younger, one smack to the head or a threat of further pain from his father was enough to keep him in line at all of the fancy dinners and fundraisers Maria put on. However, as he got older, Tony grew a set of balls and fought against _anything_ his parents wanted for him. Once his mother couldn't parade Tony around as the perfect son and the perfect heir to Stark Industries, Maria started ignoring his presence altogether. He was eleven when his mother ceased to be anything but a roommate.

To his credit, Obie lasted longer than anyone else. He was always there when Tony came up with a new invention, even at an early age, eager to test it out and market it as the latest and greatest from Stark Industries. By the time Tony started making weapons, he was practically starving to make Obie proud, to have someone_, anyone,_ praise him for his work. But after the mess with Hydra in New York, and Tony blatantly refusing to follow in his father's footsteps, Obie turned away from him too. The young genius was sixteen when he realized that his godfather was only interested in the money Tony could make for him.

Howard was the worst, no surprise there. He was jealous of Tony's exceptional mind, for his prowess in engineering, computers, and robotics. At the age of four, Tony had already built a completely functioning circuit board. When he excitedly rushed to show his father on Christmas morning, Howard sneered, wrenched the device from his hands and threw it into the roaring fireplace along with the slowly burning logs. Howard watched as Tony's eyes filled with tears at the act of cruelty, and chastised him for being weak by putting his cigarette out on Tony's arm.

"_Stark men are made of iron, stop being such a fuckin' pussy."_

That's not to say that everyone in Tony's life were monsters. Jarvis was the closest thing he ever had to a real father, but even he couldn't risk standing up to Howard or Maria, or they would have kicked him out of Tony's life forever. Jarvis did his best to protect him from the worst aspects of his family, and Tony would be forever grateful, but his many scars and bruises from his time growing up didn't fade quite as easily as he'd hoped.

Pepper and Rhodey were the first people aside from Jarvis who loved him for who he was, not for his last name. They were the best friends Tony's ever had, but they were human, and had a hard time managing Tony when he went on four-day long engineering binges, or drank himself under the table when his father was mentioned on the news. He would be forever grateful to Pepper and Rhodey for being the kinds of friends that got him through one of the toughest stages of life and for sticking by him despite his lack of a gentle personality, any practical social skills, or money. Despite his love for Jarvis and his friends, Tony had yet to meet someone who could match him shot for shot in terms of stubborness and his eye for trouble.

And then Steve came along.

Steve brought him food and coffee when he refused to resurface from his lab at MIT, intent on finishing off his final project. He threw Tony over his shoulder when he drank too much, and gave him water and advil before bed so his hangover wouldn't be so bad in the morning. When Tony would attempt to climb him like a goddamn tree, because-_hello_, Steve was basically a greek god in disguise and Tony was _always _hungry for him, Steve would simply extract himself from Tony's grip and tuck him into bed with a gentle kiss. The leader of the Avengers understood Tony in a way no one else did, and despite how they might have met or any other extenuating circumstances, he would always, _always _be grateful for Steve.

The man in question stopped at a red light and turned around to face him, his eyes shining with fierce determination. "Show me what you've got, sweetheart."

XX

A month later, Steve sat at the large mahogany desk in his office at the warehouse. He'd gotten used to the rock music Tony blasted while he was working, and it actually became a sort of anxiety reliever for him. The music meant that Tony was nearby, happy, and safe. Well, as safe as he could be with the materials he was working with. The others knew better than to complain at this point, and every now and then they would collectively sing along when Highway to Hell burst through the speakers.

His boyfriend split his time between the Avengers warehouse and MIT's engineering lab. Someone was always with him, whether he was collaborating with Bruce, or throwing ideas back and forth with the others on exactly what they would want in their weapons. At the MIT lab, Clint or Steve often accompanied him, and they'd spent a lot of time with Peter, who they'd become particularly attached to, and Harley, the new transfer student who Tony had taken under his wing.

A stack of files, put together by Natasha and Clint, his two best intelligence operators, were strewn out in front of Steve, but he was interested in one in particular. An old enemy of Steve and Bucky's from New York had resurfaced here in Boston. Their history with Baron Zemo went back further than the Howling Commandos, back to when Steve was about one hundred pounds lighter with an even shorter temper. Zemo had been one of the nastier neighborhood bullies in Brooklyn, one that had an appetite for choosing girls who didn't want him.

While Steve was still building up his body before enlisting, Susan from three doors down had knocked furiously at the door of the apartment he and Bucky shared. They let her in with wide eyes, and she tugged Lucy, her best friend, in with her and collapsed on the couch. Turns out, Zemo took his harassment a step further when Lucy rejected him. He forced her down and took what he wanted without any regard for her comfort or safety. The police didn't care enough to do anything about it, had practically blamed her for being so _easy_.

She'd never been with a man before.

If asked about it, Steve would have a hard time remembering every detail after that. After ensuring that the girls were safe, he could only recall seeing a haze of red. Looking back, Steve thought that maybe this incident was the first time he ever really fully switched into the "Captain" persona. Of course, at this point in time he never dreamed he would rise to the rank in the army, or lead not one, but two groups of exceptional people under this name, but he felt the shift inside himself all the same.

Bucky would say that he'd never seen his best friend so pent up before, so focused on hurting someone else so much that it didn't matter if it was right or wrong. Zemo had forced himself onto a girl that didn't want his affections, and Steve was going to make sure he paid for that.

And he did.

With Bucky by his side, the pair sought out the darkened alleyway Zemo and his cronies liked to loiter around. Steve had picked up a loose lead pipe from a junkyard on the way, while Bucky grabbed an old dagger his father had left him. No one had been expecting the two of them to come waltzing into the alleyway, and they certainly hadn't been prepared for the two of them to come in swinging, not bothering to ask questions. Before anyone could even think to react, three of the neighborhood bullies were unconscious at Zemo's feet, and Bucky had their target in a chokehold, one hand wrapped tightly around Zemo's wrists, pinned behind his back.

When Steve stepped forward into the flickering spotlight, he watched the outraged surprise twist across Zemo's face.

"R-Rogers? What-what the fuck!" He spat out, whining when Bucky increased the pressure.

Steve might have been out of breath, but it didn't do anything to diminish the righteous anger that was controlling him. "Lucy Carlisle and Susan Gleeson stopped by our apartment tonight. Lucy seems to think you put your hands on her without her permission."

Zemo had the audacity to crackle in laughter. "_That's_ what this is about? That fuckin' bint _wanted _it. You shoulda seen the way she was looking at me. We was just playin' a little game, you Shant. That pussy wanted-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the lead pipe colliding with his jaw. Zemo cried out in pain and his knees gave out on him, but Bucky just held him tighter for Steve to continue his assault. He got another good hit in before stepping right into Zemo's space, ignoring the blood that spattered his clothes and the ground below them.

"Listen here, you fuckin' piece of shit. If we so much as hear a goddamn _whisper _of you hurting another dame, your head will be forcibly _removed _from your body. I'll make sure your eyes are open so you know exactly what fate you've brought upon yourself." A harsh chuckle escaped Steve's throat, and he made sure Zemo could see the wild look in his eye. "I don't give a damn what happens to me. So if I go down for putting your ass in the ground, so be it. So stay away from the dames, or we'll be back."

Steve didn't bother to let him spit out a response before swinging the pipe around and cracking it against Zemo's head. He crumpled to the ground, completely unconscious. Bucky bent down to ensure there was a pulse, and huffed when he found it. "Damn, Stevie. I was kinda hopin' you killed him."

Steve's jaw tightened and he shrugged. "Not yet, anyway."

Bucky pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand, determination and trust carved out openly across his features. "'Till the end of the line?"

"Till the end of the line, Buck." Steve agreed, and took the offered hand, gripping it tight.

A lot of commotion happened the following week. Zemo went to the cops, accusing Steve and Bucky of beating the shit out of him and his crew, but as he was the only one who actually got a look at his attackers, plus his less than stellar reputation, no one seemed to believe him. Plus, Lucy and Susan provided a rock solid alibi, telling the police that the boys had been with them the entire night, keeping them company after what Zemo did to Lucy.

His folks moved their family out of Brooklyn, and that was the last Steve had heard from him.

Until now.

The file before him outlined Zemo's involvement in a few minor gangs throughout the States, his busts from simple drug charges and assault and battery at strip clubs. More recently, Zemo looked to have gotten mixed up in a group that called themselves "The Masters of Evil," which was the stupidest fucking name Steve had ever heard. But according to the file, they certainly lived up to their name. Zemo's group specialized in human trafficking, and they weren't picky on age or gender. The pictures included between the sheets made his stomach twist, and he had to flip through them quickly to stave off his temper.

Zemo had been spotted near Port Norfolk, where at least three kidnappings had occurred. Sixteen year old twins from Sokovia, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, and a twelve year old boy. The kid's parents and the Maximoff's neighbor had all filed missing person reports, but so far the police weren't having any luck.

Steve's fingers clenched into tight fists, and he cracked his neck. He rose slowly, picking up the file and typing out a group text to his team.

S Rogers 3:47PM: _Avengers, assemble._

XX

By the time he reached the make-shift conference room at the warehouse, his entire team had settled into their seats. Steve always sat at the head of the table, with Bucky to his right and Sam to his left, but Sam had been kind enough to allow Tony to fill that space now. Steve had to fight the flush of pride and sense of absolute _rightness_ at seeing Tony by his side, now was not the time.

He strode over and handed out the stack of duplicate files he had printed out to each of the Avengers. Clint and Nat nodded and flipped through lazily, as they had already memorized its contents. Bruce, Thor, Sam, and Tony read on with interest, while Bucky cursed loudly.

"You've gotta be fuckin' with me. Zemo?" He asked incredulously, brow furrowed.

Steve breathed out through his nose in a short huff. "Guess the warning we gave him twelve years ago didn't quite stick."

Sam raised an eyebrow and waved at the file. "You know this lunatic?"

He hummed. "Lived in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn, actually. Gave him a warning that if didn't keep his hands off of the dames who didn't want him, we'd kindly remove his head from his body."

Natasha smirked and leaned back in her chair. "Guess it's time to live up to your promise, Captain."

Steve was inclined to agree, but he found himself looking over at Tony, who was immersed in the file. His boyfriend had given his enthusiastic consent to joining the Avengers, but that was mainly to find and punish those responsible for Hydra's kidnapping. This was an entirely different ballgame, one Steve wasn't sure Tony wanted any part of. They were talking about murder here. Steve had no intention of letting Zemo get arrested. His file suggested that he had friends within the system to get him off on any and all charges.

The Avengers seemed to have sensed his hesitance, because they all turned their eyes to Tony. The young genius looked up to see everyone looking at him, and didn't hesitate to flash a handsome smile at Steve. "Well, it's a good thing that I just finished with everyone's new gear."

Steve swallowed heavily. "Are you sure you want in on this? You know what it means once we go after him, right?"

Tony leaned back in his chair and tapped a finger against the file in front of him. He met Steve's eyes and held his gaze. "It means that you'll be stopping a major player in human trafficking. It means you'll dismantle their operation, and save all of the victims and return them to their families. It means you'll be doing what the Avengers do best."

"Hell yeah it does!" Clint cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Natasha clipped him on the back of the head.

Steve couldn't fight back his pleased smile. "Excellent. Then Tony, why don't you show us all what you have prepared for the team, then Clint and Nat can brief us on the mission. I want details of his latest movements, and then we can discuss how to proceed and what time frame we are aiming for."

Tony rubbed his hands together greedily as he stood up in his chair. "I'll be right back. Give me five minutes." As promised, five minutes later Tony returned with a large cart of weapons, which he rolled over to the front of the room.

He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Thanks to the Avengers' seemingly unlimited supply of materials and money, it didn't take me long to put together something new for each one of you. Collectively, you all have new outfits and masks, because, you know, this is a dangerous profession to be in, and I'd rather nobody end up in jail, or in the hospital, on my watch."

Tony leaned down and picked up a particularly heavy-looking mechanical hammer from the bottom rack and set it down in front of Thor. "That, my friend, is your new favorite toy. It's biometrically altered, so only you, and me of course, can lift it. It scans the fingerprint then distributes the weight accordingly. You'll also find different settings where it holds a max of about five hundred volts of electricity, more than enough to kill someone, so be careful with that sucker. It can also rebuild itself into an axe when you hit the right combination."

Thor stood up in reverence, crossed a fist over his heart and bowed. "Friend Tony, this gift shall be cherished for the rest of my days."

"Yeah, yeah, Big Guy." Clint quipped, waving a hand in their direction. "Now sit down, I want my new toy next!"

Tony chuckled, bright and pleased, before pulling out a quiver full of arrows and a new bow. "You already know what to expect, Legolas. But for the rest of the class, this is a collapsible recurve bow, with a mechanized quiver that stores and deploys your different arrows. Most of them are trick arrows, so you'll have to check the tips' color to see what they do."

Clint was practically vibrating in his seat by the time Tony finished, and didn't hesitate to leap across the room and tackle him in a hug. Steve let out a possessive growl, and the archer backed away quickly, taking his new bow and quiver with him.

"Moving on," Tony grinned and grabbed two batons and flipped them easily in his hand. "For the lovely Natasha, I have electroshock batons, which I have graciously named Black Widow's Bite. They'll be charged by and stored in the gauntlets on your new suit."

Natasha's eyes lit up with an emotion most people didn't see, and she took them eagerly. She pressed a light kiss to Tony's cheek and raised an eyebrow at Steve. "We are keeping him, Cap."

The corners of Steve's lips twitched as he watched his boyfriend. "I couldn't agree more."

Tony just scoffed fondly and held up a medium-sized metal package and placed it in front of Sam. "I got the idea for your new suit from an experimental design my father's company tried out for the Air National Guard. He couldn't ever get it to work, and freaked the fuck out when I tried getting my hands on it. It's a jetpack along with a suit that has wings made out of carbon fiber. It made the rigidity flexibility ratio possible, and you'll actually be able to fly with them on after a little practice."

Sam just stared open mouthed between Tony and the package, blinking intermittently. "You've gotta be shittin' me, Tones. Just how smart are you? This is incredible." He wondered aloud, eyes still wide.

"Oh, you know." Tony shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with the praise. He moved on, tossing Bruce a USB drive. "Brucie-bear, plug that bad boy into your personal computer, and it will start all of my personal upgrades. You won't find better software anywhere else in the world because, you know, I made it."

Bruce gave Tony a soft smile and fiddled with the USB drive. "Thanks Tony. I'm excited to be working with you on Avengers missions."

Bucky, who had been quiet up till now, rapped his metal knuckles along the table. "I hope you're not planning on giving me a computer, Stark. I'll smash it to bits on accident."

Tony snorted and shook his head. "No way, old man. I know better than that. I've got an entire array of shiny new toys for you to use, but before I'm letting you touch any of those, I need to have a look at that arm."

Every Avenger in the conference room froze, including Steve. Everyone knew that Bucky didn't allow anyone to touch his arm, and he was overly sensitive about discussing it. Having it brought up in the middle of a briefing by the son of the man who's weapons had resulted in the arm in the first place had the entire team on edge.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Tony, and Steve braced himself for a shouting match between the two most important people in his life. "_What_ did you say to me, Stark?"

Tony wasn't an idiot, and knew exactly what Bucky was feeling right now, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from trying to help. "The wiring's been interrupted. I noticed it before, but the battle at the Hydra based messed with it even more. This is _literally _what I do best, Barnes, and I can make it stop hurting."

The potential relief from the pain seemed to be enough to get Bucky down from his oversensitivity, and he gruffed out his acceptance. Tony breathed out a sigh of satisfaction and walked back over to the cart, where a blanket was covering the last piece of material. He looked over at Steve and couldn't help the nervous smile that danced across his lips. "And, last but not least, our dear Captain needs something special." Steve stood up and walked over to the front of the room, eyes dancing with excitement.

"I have a pen pal over in a country called Wakanda. She and I have been in touch for about five years or so, and we bounce ideas back and forth off of each other. Wakanda is known for its store of Vibranium, the rarest metal on Earth." He chewed on his lip and played with the edge of the blanket. "She was kind enough to send me some, and I was able to manipulate it with a steel alloy. I know how attached you are to your shield, Cap, but I was thinking you might want to try this on for size."

He pulled the blanket off to reveal his masterpiece, a perfectly round shield that looked almost identical to the one he had now, just a thousand times more durable and deadly. The color scheme was sleeker as well.

Steve's hands hovered over it reverently, and he didn't seem to be able to form words.

"You can touch it, you know." Tony told him softly. "It's just like your old one, just more aerodynamically sound and lighter. It will make it easier to throw, and it's got a magnetized return system, in case the ricochet ballistics are off."

"This is perfect, Tony." Steve choked out, laying a hand across it and reaching out his other one for Tony, who took it instantly. "_You're_ perfect. Thank you for all of the work you put into this. Into _all _of this."

At that, the rest of the Avengers stood to their feet and surrounded him, adding in their praise. Tony stood there awkwardly with a fierce blush across his cheeks, but his new friends didn't let up on their gratitude. Steve reached an arm around his shoulders and pulled Tony flush against his side to whisper into his ear, his warm breath mingling against Tony's hair. "I'm thinking you're finally healed up, don't you?"

Tony's knees almost gave out at the huskiness of Steve's voice, but his boyfriend held him up tightly. He swallowed past a dry lump in his throat and tried to fight against all of the blood rushing south at the idea of _finally_ being intimate with Steve again. His boyfriend had been so goddamn careful with him these past couple weeks, refusing to touch him until he was healthy again.

And now, it seemed like they finally agreed that he was.

_Fucking finally_.

But for now, they had a briefing to sit through, so Steve pulled away, but kept his hand in Tony's, squeezing his fingers. "Nat, Clint, you're up."

XX

The rest of the briefing lasted three hours, and the sun had descended beneath the horizon. The Avengers laid out a detailed plan on when, where, and how they would take down Zemo's operation.

Tony and Bruce would stay behind at the warehouse, tracking their team's movements and providing support where they could. With Tony's final Thesis Defense coming up, and Steve's singular focus on keeping him safe, Thor opted to stay behind as well.

Natasha and Clint would spend the next few days tracking Zemo and his key members' movements to develop a pattern. Once it was established, the rest of the Avengers would move in. Steve and Bucky didn't want to give their old enemy a chance to run away, so they would determine the best point of contact and go after him first. Bucky suggesting recreating the scene from eight years ago, so that Zemo knew exactly who was coming for him.

Steve agreed, and determined that once they had a handle of his current movements and a location where they were keeping their victims, he and Bucky would go after Zemo and his closest associates, while Sam, Clint, and Natasha would perform the jailbreak, taking out as many members of the Masters of Evil as possible.

"We have no way of knowing what kind of treatment the victims are experiencing, Captain." Bruce pointed out with a frown. "There needs to be ambulances and transportation to the hospital available once you free everyone."

"Bruce is right," Steve agreed with a nod before turning to Clint. "Call Coulson and keep him updated on our plan. But make sure that by the time he arrives, everyone is out of there. No contact whatsoever."

Clint's lips twitched upwards into a smirk. "You got it Cap. I'll save that for later."

Each one of the Avengers groaned in unison, and Nat started pushing the archer out of the room a little harder than necessary. Tony waited behind with Steve once the debrief was over, buzzing with excitement over his first mission. "So, are you finally going to explain how the hell you know an F.B.I agent?"

"It's kind of a long story," Steve explained, intertwining their fingers and tugging until Tony collapsed onto his lap, legs hanging off to the side.

"Well, I have about an hour until my dinner date with Pep, so you've got until then to tell me."

Steve's chest rumbled happily at having Tony so close, and he snaked his arms around his waist. "Coulson and Clint have been together for a long time," he started. "They met back when Natasha got herself mixed up with the Russian mafia, and Coulson was a special agent. You'll have to ask Clint how that relationship even started out, but I know he saved Coulson's life on a case. After that, they were pretty devoted to one another. When he and Natasha joined the Avengers, I was against having any form of law enforcement aware of our...activities, for obvious reasons."

Tony snorted and lowered his head so that it was resting in the crook of his boyfriend's neck. "I can't imagine why." He smiled dryly, taking a deep breath and re-memorizing Steve's scent of lemon and pine.

"Exactly. But during one of our missions, he caught up with us. Coulson was just doing his job and following protocol, but I was livid that Clint had let one of our plans leak."

"What happened?" Tony asked while running his fingers along the nape of Steve's neck. He felt him shiver deliciously.

Steve pulled him in tighter. "Clint punched him in the face."

That broke Tony out of his cuddling spell. He leaned back, eyes wide in amusement. "He what?"

"He punched him right in the face, broke his nose and everything." Steve was smirking, eyes alight with laughter. "And then he shot an arrow through his bulletproof vest to trap him against the wall. Then Clint strolled right up to Coulson and stuck his tongue down his throat."

"Sounds like some kind of kinky foreplay," Tony pointed out with a slight tilt of his head.

Steve shrugged. "Apparently it's their way of making sure no one catches onto their relationship. Coulson did his job, well I might add, considering he was able to find us in the first place, and no one suspects him of being in league with a mafia gang. He's been promoted to Supervisory Special Agent, so I'd say whatever they're doing is working."

Tony nodded, resting his head back along Steve's collarbone and biting his lip. "So, do you think…"

"Go on," Steve encouraged, rubbing small circles along Tony's back.

"Do you think Coulson and his agent friends are looking into my kidnapping? I know that Fury guy questioned me, but I haven't heard anything since then. Would they have any leads on who at SI told Hydra to go after me?"

His boyfriend was quiet for a few minutes, and before Tony could open his mouth again to tell Steve to forget it, he sighed. "Coulson is helping us investigate, but it's slow going. There are only a handful of people who even knew of your kind of talent, sweetheart, and they're all at the heart of the company. They're pretty much untouchable for people working inside the law."

"And for those who are working outside of it?"

"Still difficult, but we'll find the evidence we need, Tony. I'll find whoever hurt you, and I'll kill them myself, I promise."

The undeniable resolve in his voice calmed Tony enough to quiet his wandering mind. As he's been working on his final project and the weapons for the Avengers these past few weeks, memories of the car crash and what transpired at the Hydra base haunted him. It's helped being surrounded by so many people hell bent on keeping him safe, but nothing can really protect him from the nightmares. He knows that this battle between him and SI isn't over, and the knowledge that someone could come after him again at any time has Tony on edge.

But now he had this new mission to focus on, along with putting the finishing touches on his project. Tony could sit and worry about the things he can't control in the future, like when and where his enemies might strike, or he could put all of his time and energy into moving forward in life. Making the world a better place by introducing them to the world of artificial intelligence, and then hopefully in the not so distant future, a miniaturized arc reactor. Or helping the Avengers rescue men, women, and children who have been kidnapped by sex traffickers. Those were the things he could focus on instead of the crippling fear that Hydra and his father instilled in him.

"I know, Steve." Tony brought their lips together sweetly, careful not to take too much before he had to leave for dinner. "I believe you."

XX

"Anthony Edward Stark, you put me down right now!"

Tony cringed at the use of his full name, but hung onto Pepper's waist tighter, spinning her around in the way he knew she loved.

Her answering delighted squeal told him he did something right. When he sat her feet back down on the ground, she clung to his biceps, which were finally filling out again after a few weeks being confined to a bed. "You didn't hurt yourself doing that, did you?"

Tony gave her his best Stark grin and shook his head. "I am officially all healed up, Steve made me go to the doctor today to confirm it."

She sighed happily, and topped it off with an overdramatic swoon. "Steve is so _wonderful._" Her voice took a bit of an airy tone, so Tony flickered her in the ear. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Stop fawning over my boyfriend." He chastised, but his smile hadn't diminished. "Besides, I need your full head in the game so we can talk about tonight."

Pepper sunk down into the corner booth at a diner they both frequented, pulling him down beside her. "Tonight? What's tonight?"

Tony leaned in, careful to keep his voice down so that the family in the booth behind them couldn't hear. "I finally got the all clear from my doctor, Pep. It's been weeks! _Weeks_!" He hissed, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Pepper's eyes grew wide in understanding, then her mouth morphed into an excited smirk. "Oh, then we so need to talk about _tonight_."

"Now you're getting it." He bopped her on the nose with his index finger and winked. The waitress came over and took their orders, giving them an appraising look before heading back to the kitchen. Tony frowned as he watched her. "She totally thought we were together."

She waved him off, "Focus, Tony. So, are you ready to get back into the swing of things?"

Tony groaned obscenely, earning him a blush from a girl walking by. "You have no idea. Somehow his friends always knew when I was even _thinking _about jacking off, and they would make sure they interrupted me because they didn't want me to risk 'overdoing it.' I've only been able to hide it from them a total of like, what, seven times? Seven times over the course of a few weeks is not enough, Pep. I'm dying here!"

"Well, you do have a tendency to overdo things…" She reasoned with a scrunched up nose. "Think of it like you were saving it all for tonight, or something like that. I'm sure it will be great."

"Yeah, I guess so." Tony grumbled. "But Steve is always so careful with me, _especially _since I've been hurt. I'm not in the mood for _careful_."

Pepper raised an interested eyebrow and leaned to rest her chin stop her fist. "What _are _you in the mood for?"

He grinned devilishly, bumping their shoulders together. "Hard, rough, and desperate. Like he damn well missed me."

"Then you should tell him that."

Tony perked up against the leather vinyl. "What, just..._tell_ him? Tell him that I want it rough?"

"Uh, yeah," she scoffed, shrugging a bit. "intimacy is all about being open and honest about what you want, right?. Steve seems like the kind of guy that will do whatever it takes to keep you happy. Am I wrong?"

Tony sighed loudly, but a fond smile found its way onto his face. "No, you aren't wrong."

XX

Turns out, Tony didn't have to actually tell Steve anything. He must have been just as desperate as Tony, because the moment he walked in through the threshold after coming home from dinner, Steve had him pinned up against the door and was licking his way into Tony's mouth.

Tony's answering moan sent shockwaves of gooseflesh down Steve's arms, and he instinctively snaked his hands down and around to Tony's ass and spread his fingers wide to massage his cheeks through his jeans. Tony bucked against him and flung his arms over Steve's shoulders and crawled upwards so that he could lock his legs around Steve's waist and grind down. The friction was so damn good, but not nearly enough.

"Oh, fuck. _Tony_."

Steve jerked up, relishing in the feeling of finally, _finally_ having Tony so close. Tony's hands slid over his hair, gripping tightly and yanking Steve's head back. His normally cerulean blue eyes were completely blown and glazed over, and Tony knew his own had to match in turn. "Clothes-" Tony choked out and ground down again to increase the pressure against his cock. "They need to be off, like, _yesterday_."

His boyfriend must have agreed because he walked them back towards their bedroom, stopping every few feet to push him up roughly against the wall to press open mouth kisses and nips to Tony's collarbone. "Ah, ah. _Fuck_, _yes_." Tony could feel the light bruises forming with each lap of Steve's tongue and scrape of teeth, and his back arched at the thought of finally being marked up again. It had been too damn long since anyone walking along the streets could identify him as _taken_.

Ten minutes later, Steve deposited Tony onto the bed and covered his body with his own, careful to distribute his weight while he ground his clothed cock down, intermittently pulling away to remove pieces of clothing, starting with his own shirt. A high-pitched keening noise escaped from Tony's throat, and his hands shot out to work on Steve's belt while he thrust upwards to latch onto Steve's left nipple. Steve hissed in delight as Tony's teeth pinched and prodded at while his deft hands whipped Steve's belt out of the loops and got to work on his buttons. He panted heavily and held Tony's head close to his chest, relishing in the string as Tony gave his other nipple the same attention.

Steve let out a thick, husky sigh as Tony pushed his khaki pants down to his knees, giving his boxer-clad erection more room to breathe. He pushed Tony's clever hands away before they met their mark, and pinned them above his head with a little squeeze. Steve took a shaky breath and leaned down to capture Tony's lips to slow down their movements. Tony's tongue delved deep and sensual, taking everything Steve gave him, and he groaned into his mouth.

"Steve, Steve, _please_. I, I need-"

"Shh," Steve soothed, nosing his way down Tony's jaw. He sat back on his haunches, knees bracketing his boyfriend's hips. He dipped his fingers underneath Tony's shirt and splayed them against his abs, relishing in the way Tony sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. Steve was careful as he pulled his shirt over Tony's head, then returned his boyfriend's hands to the bed. "Keep them there, love."

"Ugh, _fuck_. Okay, okay, _Steve_."

The corners of Steve's lips twitched upwards, and he continued his gradual assault down Tony's body. At each one of his scars, Steve lavished them gently with the flat of his tongue, pouring out as much love as he could muster into each of his kisses. By the time he reached Tony's navel, his boyfriend was gasping in desperation, strings of half-choked muttering and pleading falling off of his lips. Steve's resolve began to crumble, and a low growl resounded within his chest. His hands snapped towards Tony's pants and yanked them down before stuffing his entire face into Tony's still-clothed crotch.

"Steve, _Steve_, oh, oh, shit, Please, come on. Come on-_fuck_!"

A strangled sob was the only sound in the room once Steve freed Tony's cock and swallowed it down to the root. He didn't waste any time in taking his boyfriend apart with his throat and tongue, inching his fingers back towards Tony's hole, teasing but not yet penetrating. With quick hands, Steve blindly grabbed for his bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers, then returned them to their target and pressed in with the tip of his index finger. Tony hissed at the welcome intrusion, then ground his hips down to demand more. Steve wasn't in the business of denying Tony anything, so he worked his finger to the knuckle before adding a second. He scissored and curled and stretched Tony open, occasionally brushing against the bright bundle of nerves, maddeningly slow if Tony's pleads were anything to go by, all the while licking and sucking at the head of his cock.

After a few minutes, Tony pulled roughly at Steve's hair. "Stop, stop, Steve, _Cap_, love-you've gotta _stop_. I don't-I don't want to come yet. I need you inside me, _please_!"

Steve popped off Tony's dick with a wet pop, still working his three fingers in and out of Tony. "That's right, sweetheart, that's right. Because you want to come around my cock, don't you?" He had never been one for dirty talk before, but the young genius had a way of pulling it out of him. Based on the the writhing moans coming from Tony, he seemed to enjoy it. Steve leaned forward and plundered Tony's mouth once more, letting Tony taste himself on his tongue, as he coated his own dick with more lube. He slowed down so that their kisses became more deliberate and passionate. Steve pulled back and admired his boyfriend, aching and desperate for him. "I've missed you, sweetheart. I love you. _I love you_."

Tony's gaze snapped to his, and his lips twitched upwards into a bright, pleased smile. "I love you too, Steve." Then his eyes narrowed in challenge. "Now are you going to fuck me, or what, _Captain_?"

Steve felt his own grin turn predatory. "Since you asked so nicely…"

XX

"Steve, Steve, Steve, wake up! Wake up!" Tony burst, pushing up against his boyfriend's arm where it was hanging off the side of the bed.

The man in question grumbled incoherently and turned his head away from the overenthusiastic commotion.

Tony's laughter was airy and happy, and he tugged more incessantly. "Come on, Cap, get your ass up and out of bed. I want to you to be the first person to see my final project!"

That at least got Steve to open his cerulean blue eyes, Tony's new favorite color for obvious reasons, though he had yet to move from his position beneath the crumpled sheets. "You finished it?"

"I did, now you've got to wake up or else I'm going to call Brucie-bear and show him first."

Steve snorted and shot out a hand to wrap around Tony's clothed waist, considering he'd already showered and dressed for the day, pulling him back onto the bed with him and nosing his way into the junction of Tony's neck and collarbone. "No!" He protested, but it was weak and shaking with amusement.

"I'm the boyfriend, I get to see it first."

"_Him_." Tony corrected smugly.

Steve rose up onto his elbows and let the sheets pool down at his waist, one eyebrow climbing higher than the other while his broad chest was revealed. "Excuse me?"

Tony swallowed thickly as his eyes tracked down his boyfriend's tanned skin. "My final project. You called him an 'it.'"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I wasn't aware it required a pronoun."

Tony wormed his way out of Steve's grasp and went to stand by the door, careful not to let himself get caught up in lust, he had shit to do today. "Well, he does, and he's very excited to meet you. Now come on!"

An hour later, Tony led Steve through the doors of MIT's engineering lab practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Steve's smile matched his boyfriend's, the enthusiastic energy spilling over in waves.

He nodded his hello's to Peter and Harvey, who were buzzing with the same excitement oozing off of Tony. By the way they craned their necks towards the pair, Steve guessed they hadn't seen the final project either, which gave him a strange sense of smugness. He followed Tony through the back room where his laptop sat, alone and open precariously, and watched his boyfriend dance around the table in short, eager bursts. "Okay, okay, are you ready?"

Steve snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, Tony, I'm ready. Now show me!"

Tony's grin was blinding. He reached over the table, hit the enter key, and took a step backwards. "JARVIS, you up, buddy?"

Steve almost asked who the hell Tony was talking to, but was interrupted by a computerized voice with a british accent.

"For you sir, always."

Steve's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Give me an update, please." Tony asked politely with a knowing smirk in Steve's direction.

"As you wish, sir. It is currently the 13th of May, with a high of 57 degrees fahrenheit and a wind speed of 6 miles per hour. I would suggest wearing a light jacket if you plan on walking to your daily coffee visit, three blocks away."

Steve could barely swallow past the lump in his throat. "Tony…"

His boyfriend rapped his knuckles against the table and snapped his fingers together in an attempt to direct his nervous energy. "JARVIS, say hello to Steve. You remember me telling you about him, right?"

"Of course," The voice sounded warm and enthused, and Steve didn't think it was just his imagination. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain Rogers. In the untimely event of Sir's demise, I am only to answer to you and First Lieutenant Rhodes."

The only answer Steve was able to give was a wheeze.

Tony slapped him on the back, the only way he knew how to help someone who was having trouble breathing. It didn't exactly help, but the sharp pain brought his focus back to Tony. Steve ran his hands through his hair and pulled slightly, eyes still captivated on the computer. "Who is that?"

"Steve, this is JARVIS, my AI, or artificial intelligence. I named him after Edwin Jarvis."

Steve's gaze softened considerably, and he reached out to intertwine their fingers, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Tony's knuckles. "Your family's butler." Tony nodded and Steve pressed a kiss to his temple and turned back to the laptop. "It's nice to meet you too, JARVIS. Though I will do everything in my power to make sure that you always, _always_ answer to Tony."

"It brings me great joy to hear that, Captain."

"JARVIS' primary function is to keep me safe," Tony explained, suddenly looking a little shy. "And he can do so much more than a regular computer ever could. I was thinking...if all goes well at my thesis defence, maybe I could integrate him into the Avenger's missions?" He was quick to throw up his palms. "Only if you're okay with that, of course."

Steve didn't even hesitate to blurt out, "Yes!"

Tony had the gall to look surprised. "Wait, really?"

"Tony…" Steve marveled. "This is...this is you. _You_ made JARVIS. He's an extension of you and your mind. Of your heart and your soul. Tony, you loved Edwin Jarvis, and you brought back his memory and intertwined it with something _incredible_. Of course I want JARVIS. I want all of you, sweetheart."

He barely had time to catch Tony before he flung himself into Steve's arms, clinging to his shoulders and burying his face into the crook of Steve's neck. "God, I love you. How-how did I even find someone like you?"

"I think I should be the one asking that question." Steve mumbled into the young genius' hair. "When do you present?" He set him down, but kept his arms snaked around Tony's waist, fingers dipping just along the waistline of his jeans.

"Tuesday. Everything is all set up, and I already took my last finals. After that…"

Steve cupped his free hand around Tony's face and leaned down for a chaste kiss. "Graduation, and then you'll be free to start up your own company. Our intel should be ready by Monday, and we'll move out against Zemo that evening. We'll be back in time Tuesday to celebrate you completing your third doctorate."

Tony's next breath came out shaky and stilted, but the fond smile was still tapered across his face. "I guess we're moving forward, huh?"

"We are, but it doesn't mean that we're moving past finding out who was behind the kidnapping. You know that, right?"

He nodded, burying his face into Steve's chest. "Yeah, I know." Tony pulled Steve's arm around his shoulders and spun around towards the laptop. "JARVIS, wait until you hear about Steve's art classes. He's fantastic."

XX

Tony fidgeted nervously outside of the door, raised his hand to knock, then pulled it away again abruptly. He paced for a few more minutes, trying to psych himself up for this.

He practically jumped out of his skin when the door flung open to reveal an extremely irritated Bucky Barnes. "Goddamnit Stark! You're driving me fucking crazy, just get yourself in here." He stalked back inside, leaving the entryway open.

Tony stumbled into the firing range, eyes quickly tracking over the six bays, only one filled with various rifles, glocks, and machine guns Bucky had been practicing with. The man in question waited patiently for his target sheet to reel back across the line. Unsurprisingly, only two holes were visible, one in the center of the forehead, and one where the target's heart would be. As the sheet _clinked_ to a stop closer, it was revealed that the holes were steadily wider than a normal bullet, proving that Bucky had hit his mark perfectly each and every time.

He whistled his appreciation. "Damn, you really know your way around a weapon, don't you?"

Bucky shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the bay walls. "I was a sniper in the army. It was my job."

Tony hummed in agreement, then risked taking a step forward. "So...you'll let me fix that arm of yours? Before the mission?" He licked his lips. "Because, you know, it's just dangerous going into something like that with the wiring all convoluted, the percentage of failure grows each day that it-"

"Stark," Bucky cut off with an annoyed huff. "Yes, you can get your greedy little paws on my arm." He took a deep breath, rolling his eyes upwards in an attempt to pray for patience (which, okay, rude), before meeting Tony's eye. "You said you can make it stop hurting, right?"

"Yes!" He answered quickly, not wanting to give the soldier any time to back out. "Can you come into the workshop? I have everything set up."

Bucky grunted, but followed a delighted Tony back through the doors and down the hall to the space the Avengers carved out for his makeshift lab. Tony gestured to a chair next to a table with all of the necessary tools, and Bucky took a seat.

He looked at Tony expectantly, flexing and unflexing his metal hand. "Well, get on with it, Stark."

Tony scratched at the back of his head nervously, but took the rolling seat next to Bucky. "Listen, before I take a look, I just…" he fiddled with a screwdriver, twirling it around expertly between his fingers. "I just wanted to apologize."

Bucky's brow furrowed.

"Because obviously whatever happened to you has something to do with Hydra, and…" Tony trailed for a moment before continuing. "And it was probably during the time frame where I was still trying to please my father, so you probably suspect that it was one of my weapons that did this to you."

The tense silence in the room was answer enough.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at the concrete floor, too ashamed to meet Bucky's eye. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. It's my fault that you lost your arm, and it's my fault that all of those innocent people are dead. They used my weapons, and...and…"

"Stark," Bucky interrupted softly. Tony still couldn't get himself to look up. "_Stark_," he spoke more firmly this time, and Tony had no choice but to listen.

"I don't blame you. I did, for a while." He admitted, and Tony felt his heart plummet. "After the accident, I wanted Stark Industries to crumble. I stalked your family for months, gathering as much intel as I could to put whoever it was that was behind the Hydra arsenal away. When I did, and the police didn't fucking do shit except an investigation that didn't go anywhere, I pushed Stevie to get the fuck out of New York."

Bucky's jaw twitched as he shook his head. "I couldn't live there anymore without being consumed by anger, and Stevie was losing himself to the Captain. We both needed a break. Boston has been good to us."

"And now you're caught up in everything again," Tony pointed out with a grimace. "You left New York to get away from SI, and now you're stuck with the man who hurt you in the first place."

"But you didn't, Stark." Bucky argued. "Sure, you might have made the weapon that took my arm, but you didn't hand it over to Hydra. It could have saved American lives overseas, but instead someone decided to be greedy and sell SI's weapons to terrorists." He pushed back his long hair with his other hand. "And I don't know, I think you being with the Avengers is...meant to be, or some shit like that."

It was Tony's time to blink back in confusion.

"Think about it, you fucking genius. SI has been a thorn in your side just as much as the rest of us, even more so, and now you're ready to take them down. You and Steve...you'll go the distance, you know? And you're helping the Avengers along the way. I don't believe in destiny or any shit like that, but the universe has a strange way of bringing people together."

Tony wasn't sure what to say to that. It was true that all of the abuse, destruction, and heartache he'd endured over the years had brought him straight to Steve. He could admit that if Howard and Maria Stark hadn't been such shitty parents, and the Hydra mole in SI hadn't sold weapons, then he and Steve probably wouldn't have never met. If Tony hadn't decided to break free from weapons manufacturing, he would be back at SÍ by now, working under his father and probably being groomed to take over the company one day. Who knows how many people would be dead? And...would the Avengers have come after his family eventually? Could he have been a potential target down the line?

Either way, Bucky was right. Events in his life had brought him here to Boston, where he met Steve, the man who saved him, loved him, and took care of him. They brought him here to the Avengers, broken people who would die for each other, and for whom he was lucky to call friends. Despite all else, he could be grateful for all of that.

"I think you're turning into a sap, Barnes." Tony joked, trying to lighten the mood. He carefully got to work on Bucky's arm, loosening the screws to take a peek inside the plate.

Before he could dive into it, Bucky covered Tony's hand with his own flesh and blood one. "Remember that conversation we had before?"

Tony nodded, he remembered. Bucky didn't want him to let the ghosts of his past dictate his future, but Tony hadn't wanted to let his anger and resentment go. But now, knowing what all of the shit he's had to endure would lead to? A family in the Avengers, true friends like Pepper and Rhodey, and the love of his life? Maybe the soldier had a point. He could still get revenge without letting it consume him.

"I think you're a lot smarter than people give you credit for," Tony teased gently, but let an honest smile play across his lips.

Bucky squeezed his hand once to let him know he understood, and leaned back in the chair. "Now get on with it, Stark. This shit hurts."

XX

Natasha and Clint stood at the front of the conference table Monday morning, flipping through the projector slides and detailing out Zemo's operation to the rest of the team.

"They operate out of two warehouses and a bar, all in different points of the city, here-" She pointed out the marked x's on the map of Boston before continuing. "The offices they are using to handle the paperwork, track and store the finances, and complete arranged deals are in the building in West Roxbury. The victims are held in the warehouse to the north in Back Bay. The keys to all of the cells within are held by Zemo's main players, who frequent the bar to the east in Clay Point. The back of the establishment is used as a type of command center of sorts, and our sources on the ground tell us there will be a meeting there tonight. We weren't able to get eyes on the inside, but something shady is definitely going down there."

Clint nodded. "Nat and I compiled a list of Zemo's associates that we've seen go in and out of these three buildings over the last few days. The photos highlighted in blue are the security team, no surprise that they're all over six foot three and almost three hundred pounds." He huffed with a annoyed eye roll. "The ones in red we believe are part of his group of evil douchebags, and the people we couldn't identify are highlighted in green."

The Avengers gathered around the table read through the updated files the spies provided, and memorized the faces of the key players. Natasha leaned back against one of the chairs and clicked through the slides with a dangerous smirk playing across her lips. "We were able to determine a routine of sorts, shown here. I'll defer to you, Cap, but I would suggest our earlier plan of dividing and conquering. Have someone go in to ransack the loot, two to break out the victims and get them hauled to the hospital, and then you and Barnes can tear down the bar and take care of Zemo."

Steve folded his hands in front of him and nodded, considering the team around him before speaking. The _Captain _was always at the forefront during Avengers missions and meetings, and Tony was more than a little interested in seeing Steve come in and out of it. His voice was deeper than normal, and something in his tone demanded obedience. The low timbre had a way of seeping into the fear receptors in your brain, causing the listener to be instantly on edge and alert. If Steve were to go in public, around people who didn't know him, the aura he produced would send them reeling. He always tended to give off those '_fuck with me and die'_ vibes, and people tended to get the message loud and clear and always gave him a wide berth.

Here, though, around his team and the only people he trusted, the Avengers let his strange energy motivate them. They had an assignment, the next step in carrying out their purpose. Taking out a major sex trafficing ring and putting down someone as disturbed as Zemo would save hundreds of lives in the future. Sure, with Coulson's intel, the FBI are aware of Zemo's activities, but with all of the rules and bureaucratic red tape, they can't even get enough evidence for a search warrant.

The Avengers, on the other hand, didn't live by society's laws. Life was more simple with them, Tony mused to himself. The gang protect the people in a way the government and law enforcement could never dream of, and Tony was proud to be a part of that.

"Good work." The Captain praised with a tilt of his head. "Widow, I want you on the west warehouse. Borrow a van and fill it with anything and everything you can find, documents detailing the finances, lists of trade partners, any and all cash and valuables in the vaults that are sure to be there. Take out anyone who gets in your way."

He looked down the table to the rest of his team. "Falcon, you and Hawkeye break out everyone you can in Back Bay, direct them to the corner of Beacon and Dartmouth, where you can tip off Coulson to have the ambulances waiting to provide medical attention. We can get you the keys to the cells if needed, but I have faith in your abilities to not slow down the operation."

"Bruce will provide technical support from our central base here. Thor will ensure that Tony remains at home, in case the Hydra sympathizer decides to utilize our absence for an attack."

Thor nodded his understanding, wincing a little when Tony squawked. "_Excuse me_?"

"You heard me." The Captain replied tersely, leaving no room for comment at the present moment.

That was _fine_, Tony could be patient. Well, _patient-ish_. He could simmer.

"After the bar closes to pedestrians, the Winter Soldier and I will go in and take it. I'm not interested in prisoners, and I don't care for pleas or explanations. I want Zemo and everyone who had their hand in this shit show dead." He took a moment to sit back in his chair and flip the file closed with a heavy _thwack_. "Any questions?"

XX

"My decisions are not _negotiable_."

The moment the rest of the team filed out of the room, Tony locked the door behind them and turned on Steve, who was still wrapped up in his stupid fucking _Captain_ persona. His back was ramrod straight with a line of tension, and the width of his stance suggested he was ready for a fight.

Well good, because Tony wasn't going down without one. He scoffed haughtily in a way he knew Steve hated. "I'm sorry, did I miss the part where you suddenly became my _father_? You don't get to treat me like a child, Steve. You're my _boyfriend_, not my keeper. I should be there with Bruce, not locked up at home."

Steve's jaw twitched at the show of blatant insubordination. "I gave my order, and you'll follow it. I will always put your well-being first, and making sure you are safe and protected, as well as prepared for your defense tomorrow is part of that."

"Don't pull that _Captain_ bullshit with me, not here, not now." Tony warned brutally, stepping into Steve's space, shoving his palms against his boyfriend's chest. "You want me to follow ridiculously _biased _orders? Talk to me as my boyfriend, Rogers, not this holier-than-thou perfect little soldier who decides what I can and can't do. I created the weapons _our _team will be using, you can't honestly believe I didn't make myself something too? I can protect myself."

They stared at each other for a few long moments, and Tony narrowed his eyes to prove that he wasn't backing down from this argument. "We are _equals_ in this relationship, Steven Grant Rogers. You can be the Captain with the Avengers, that's fine, I don't fucking care, but I am your _boyfriend_ first and foremost, not one of your lackeys."

Steve swallowed thickly, as if the movement was painful, while Tony watched his Adam's Apple bob up and down. He was stoic for another few seconds, then his shoulders slumped down heavily, the _Captain_ slowly seeping out of him like a deflating balloon. The cold hardness in his eyes was replaced by the familiar soft cerulean, so full of love, affection, and guilt that Tony was momentarily floored.

_His_ Steve was back, and had realized what a shitty move he had just tried to pull.

"I, I-_Tony_…" He started, voice shaking, and took a step forward with an outreached hand.

Tony slapped it away, hissing through his teeth. "Welcome back, _Cap_." He drew himself up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now can we have a rational conversation about this without you going all macho-possessive douchebag?"

Steve grimaced, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. "I-yes. I'm, I'm sorry. Your safety is important to me...I get a little carried away with it sometimes."

"I get it, I do." Tony grumbled, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I appreciate that you want to keep me safe, and that you planned on letting me get enough sleep for my defense, but we have to _talk _about these things before you just decide them. I can't have someone trying to dictate my life, Steve, assuming that they know what's best for me. Not again."

His boyfriend collapsed into the seat behind him and cradled his face in his hands. "Tony, I can't live with the idea that whoever was behind your kidnapping might strike again the moment I leave you alone. If something happens to you…"

"_Nothing_ is going to happen to me," Tony promised, sighing and reaching out a hand of his own to run his fingers through Steve's styled blonde locks. "Like I said before, I can protect myself now. If someone tries coming for me, or after any of the Avengers while I'm around for that matter, they'll have to answer to my repulser blasters. Patent pending." He added cheekily.

That earned him some shy eye contact and an amused chuckle. "Repulser blasters?"

Tony found himself smiling back and pulling up his sleeves to reveal the metal webbing across his wrist. "You got it, Cap. They aren't really powerful just yet, I haven't worked out a viable energy source for long term use, but for now, they basically let me direct small amounts of plasma to ignite a projection. It won't kill anyone, but it will knock them on their ass if they get too close."

Steve caught Tony's wrist and intertwined their fingers together, rubbing the pad of his thumb across his boyfriend's callouses. "You're incredible, Tony. I love you."

He sounded so damn earnest, Tony couldn't find it in him to keep up his mini tantrum. He shook his head and felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards. "I love you too, Steve." Tony then narrowed his eyes and considered Steve with a sharp gaze. "But I was serious before. You're not my keeper, and I won't have your little Captain persona showing up to give me biased orders. You don't own me."

Steve swallowed again, this time pushing up to his feet so that he stretched to his full height again. "I know, and I can't promise that my..._other half_...won't try something like this again, but I do need you to be safe, Tony. I know you'll be an asset to Bruce on the mission, but can we at least set some sort of time frame? I won't be able to concentrate knowing an Avengers operation might jeopardize your future and your safety."

As much as Tony wanted to simply refuse again, tell Steve that he could handle the entire fight just fine throughout the night and then go in prepared for his defense, he couldn't. Tony needed to perform well so that he could finish out his third doctorate, which would be the last stepping stone to graduating and starting his own company. The plan for his future was riding on tomorrow, and getting rest before hand would be important. "Fine, I'll have a bedtime, and I'll even let Thor babysit for the time being."

Steve looked far too relieved, so Tony cut in with a slash of his hand. "_But_, I want updates every hour. And I don't care if its an hour before my presentation, if something goes wrong, I want to be notified and I'll be dropping everything to come and help. I need you to promise that you'll call if you need me, Steve."

"Tony…" A frown was marring his handsome features.

"No," Tony insisted. "You say that the most important thing to you is keeping me safe, right?"

Steve nodded suspiciously.

"The same goes for me. Finishing school is important to me, but I already have my two doctorates, and a last name that is going to get me more places than I deserve. You, though…" Tony reached up and cupped Steve's face, tracing his jawline with his fingers. "You saved my life. I wouldn't be here with you. You accepted me, and loved me when I was at my lowest. Your safety is my number one priority too. We're in this together now, right?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled, the simple movement lighting up his entire face, and Tony's chest warmed at the sight. "Together."

XX

"Tony, run through the list one more time."

"Since I'm officially on the team and everything, I want you to start calling me by alias when we're on a mission. So, try again."

Steve glared at him in annoyance, but Tony just glared right back. Staring contests were his niche. Finally, his boyfriend just sighed in defeat and rolled his eyes. "Fine._ Iron Man,_ run through the list one more time."

Tony flashed a pleased grin in his direction and paced in front of the bay door of the warehouse, the warm spring night air doing little to calm his mounting nerves. He flipped through his list of supplies and materials the Avengers would need on their mission, the team calling out an affirmative to each question. They looked dangerous, sexy, and enigmatic in their new stealth suits, and he was sure that the moment their masks covered their faces the Avengers would have a whole new reputation. Onlookers would still be able to recognize the group due to Steve's shield, practically a national icon identifying him as one of the most powerful mafia bosses in the country, but now it would be impossible for the police or any enemies to single any one of them out.

The three separate groups would get into position, and when the bar closed to pedestrians, all of the Avengers would strike at once. They would take down a major sex trafficing ring in one night, and make the city a safer place for tomorrow.

"You're all set." He confirmed, closing the iPad case.

"And how about you,_ Iron Man_?" Clint mused as he adjusted his bowstring. "You all set for tomorrow morning? Ready to change the world?"

He couldn't fight the smile that danced across his lips. His new friends might be assasins and murderers, but they were supportive as fuck. "Yeah, JARVIS is ready to blow their fucking minds. Hope you're prepared to start having him in your ear on the next mission."

"He's way more exciting than you or Banner," Natasha smirked, shooting a teasing wink at Bruce, who just rolled his eyes.

"Can we get this show on the road?" Bucky complained, throwing an arm around Tony's shoulders. "I'm ready to give Zemo what he's got coming to him."

Tony watched as Steve nodded, then drew himself into his Captain persona. It was the strangest thing, watching the stilted air around them bend to his influence, and the Avengers respond in turn. Each one of them dropped their joking demeanor and settled in for battle. "Avengers, ready?"

They all acknowledged their affirmative, and Steve clipped his new shield to his back. "Move out. Listen for Iron Man and the Hulk on comms."

The Avengers split up into their respective vehicles, but before Steve could follow them out, Tony grabbed ahold of his wrist. The Captain looked back down at him, but Tony could see a glimmer of _his _Steve in there, looking at him with expectant amusement. "Be safe. I'll see you tomorrow night."

To his surprise, The Captain leaned down, cupped his hands around the back of Tony's head, and pressed their lips together. A rumble of pleasure escaped his throat, and he moved to the side to whisper in Tony's ear, warm breath tickling against his skin.

"_Tomorrow_. Wait for me."

XX

At midnight, Tony was bored. He spun around in his chair, seeing how long he could balance a pencil between his lips and nose. Too bad he'll never know the answer to that question, because Bruce smacked him upside the head after ten seconds.

"Tony, go back to the house." The scientist complained with a groan. "The bar won't even close for another three hours, and you've done all that you can do. I've got it from here."

Thor's booming laugh was surprising enough that Tony almost scrambled out of his seat. "The good doctor is right, Man of Iron. The Avengers are in good hands, you both have done a fine job looking out for them. It is time to retire."

"But," Tony argued, the noise coming out of his throat sounding dangerously like a small whine. "But, I could do a systems check again? Or confirm that all of the security cameras will be down once they move out? Or, I don't know, verify the weakest entrance points?"

Bruce chuckled under his breath and rubbed at his eyes underneath his glasses. "You've already done all of that. And triple checked your work. Go home and get some rest." He implored with a fond smile. "Tomorrow is a big day. We can celebrate when everyone is home."

Tony's shoulders slumped before Thor clapped a large hand across them. "Come now, I will escort you back to the Captain's home."

"Fine," Tony grumbled. He couldn't complain really, he knew he wouldn't really make it to the action of tonight's mission. At least he was able to make sure they were set up for success, and was even able to get to know Bruce and Thor a little better during their time in the warehouse.

Turns out Bruce had a surprisingly dry sense of humor, one that matched well with his own witty sarcasm. They had so much in common, and had run into many of the same people in their life, it was a little worrying that their paths never crossed. SI is contracted with the United States military, and General Ross, the same jackass that was after Bruce, is one of SI's contacts. Tony himself had charmed the beautiful Betty Ross into dancing with him when he was eight years old at a fundraiser. The scientist was generally pretty closed off, but the fondness and affection in his voice when they spoke about Betty was undeniable. It was fairly obvious that Dr. Banner was still very much in love with his ex-fiancé.

Thor, on the other hand, was loud and boisterous. He was eager to learn and quick to give praise. They settled into playing a few games of dice and cards when Tony found two sets of each in a cupboard. He detailed his presentation for tomorrow, and let Bruce question him so that he would be fully prepared to defend his AI. After a few hours at the Avengers' warehouse, it became increasingly apparent that this would be the end of Tony's mission.

"But I want minute by minute updates, you hear me, Brucie-bear?"

Bruce shook his head and waved him off. "If something happens, Tony, I'll make sure to let you know. Sleep well, and let Thor drive you to campus tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony grumbled, stuffing his things into his backpack. "I'll let Point Break try his hand on driving on the right side of the road."

Thor frowned down at them both as Tony led him towards the doors. "Driving in Norway is not dissimilar to driving here, Friend Tony."

"It was a _joke_!" He called from the hallway over his shoulders.

Thor's answering laugh could have brought the whole warehouse down.

XX

"Cap, Thor confirmed that Tony's back at the condo for the night."

Steve released a breath of relief as he squirmed in his seat inside the black Nissan. "Copy, thanks Bruce." He switched over to the Avenger's line and checked in on his team. "Report."

Natasha spoke up first. "Ready for your signal. Should be in and out within twenty minutes once we get this party started."

"Hawkeye and I are ready to go too, Cap." Sam confirmed. "With the mechanisms Tony made for us today we shouldn't need the keys off the guys in the bar. Twenty minutes will be enough time to take down the guards and get everyone out of the building."

Clint buzzed in as well. "Coulson will drop an anonymous tip to have medics waiting at Beacon and Dartmouth. We'll get them far enough then disappear."

"Copy," Steve clipped. "Soldier, can you give us a potential timeline?"

Bucky grunted his agreement and tapped a finger to his comm unit. "I would say we've got another hour and a half. Stay down until we give the signal."

The signal came at exactly 3:45. The bartender, a burly, tattooed man with a black goatee followed the last pedestrian out and watched him drive off. He checked the streets to his left and right a few times, eyes not bothering to linger on the small black car that had been parked there for a few hours, before going back inside and locking the door. Steve and Bucky could see about fifteen people still inside, and they gave it another twenty minutes to let Zemo and his associates fall into a false sense of security.

"Ready, Cap, on your count." Bucky affirmed, switching the safety off of his weapon and cocking it back.

Steve took a deep breath in, fingering his own weapon and finding strength in the shield hooked onto his back. "Move out. Twenty minutes, team, then disappear."

"Copy."

"Copy."

"Copy."

XX

Sam moved through the cover of night without a sound. As he approached the warehouse, two armed guards stood outside, looking perilously bored as they traded bits and pieces of conversation. Sam flashed a hand signal up in the air, and Clint gave a curt nod in understanding from atop the adjacent building.

The archer drew back two of his arrows, let out a silent breath, and let them fly. Seconds later, the guards dropped heavily to the cobbled street, arrows embedded between their eyes. Sam walked straight past them, opening up the side door just in time for Clint to swoop in next to him. They stuck close together in the darkened corridor, weapons drawn. A door sat at the end of it, and with a slight tug Sam confirmed it was locked. The archer grasped the handheld device Tony gave them before their mission and deposited above the handle. Within seconds, it gave a slight beep and the lock clicked open.

The pair had about five seconds before the guard on the other side of the door was on them. Before he could call out a warning to his associates, Sam reached up and covered his mouth, slicing his throat quickly. Clint didn't wait for him to finish up, instead, he was unloading his arrows at the four very large, and very angry gentleman pulling out their guns. One, two, three shots rang out before the archer silenced them all, but luckily the pair was light enough on their feet to twist out of the way of the fire.

They reached the main opening of the warehouse. With a quick use of the mechanical lock pick, they found two hallways filled with the cells containing the victims.

"You take the left, I'll take the right. Meet out front in seven minutes." Sam ordered, giving him a nod of good luck.

Clint took off running down the hall, flipping on the lights to reveal eight cells on each side. Men, women, and children of all ages huddled against the gritty back walls, whimpering as they wrapped bare arms around themselves.

Before he could reach the first lock, the door at the end of the corridor burst open and out poured ten guards in stark black uniforms, all with their weapons raised ready to fire.

The archer sighed, frustrated that he was at such a close range. With a soft grumble, he whipped out his two glocks strapped to either side of his legs and opened fire. The first five were taken out quickly with as many shots, and he had to dance around the small hallway before taking down the rest. Once the hallway was finally silent, Clint holstered his weapons and turned back to the first cell.

Inside, a thin teenage girl with damp red hair sat crumpled in the corner. She had large, terrified green eyes that watched his every move with frightening concentration. He'd seen her picture before in their file. Wanda Maximoff.

Clint crouched down and gripped the bars with his gloved fingers. "Hey, kiddo. My friend and I are here to get you and everyone else out of here, okay?"

Wanda didn't make a sound, just continued watching him.

Clint nodded, assuming she could understand him. "I'm going to unlock this door, then you're going to help me lead everyone else here down the road to the ambulances that will be waiting for you, okay?" He stood up without breaking eye contact. "I'll need your help making sure everyone is out."

The archer used the lock pick to slide open the cell doors, the creak and moan of the door echoing within the thin corridor. Unsurprisingly, Wanda didn't move from her spot. Clint reached out and offered her a hand. "You want to find your brother, don't you? I promise I'll get both of you out of here."

As he suspected, those happened to be the magic words. Wanda took his hand and let him pull her up, one arm keeping a tight grip on the ragged, loose dress she'd been forced to wear.

Five minutes later, Clint led his group, including Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, through the warehouse doors where Sam and the others waited. Everyone was in various states of dress, all looking as if someone had found a battered piece of cloth from a thrift store and threw it at their prisoners. Sam was holding a young boy's hand, and Clint's stomach flipped in disgust at the thought of why he was here.

"Go," Sam ordered, pointing west towards Beacon where emergency lights were waiting. "They're waiting for you two blocks away. Stick together, and run as fast as you can."

Most of the group didn't need to be told twice. Almost everyone took off down the street, careful not to stray too far from one another. The only stragglers were the Maximoff twins, who turned to stare at Clint and Sam, still clinging to each other.

"You need to go," Clint implored, ready to take off in the other direction.

Wanda's eyes widened even further in panic, and she took a step after him. "Wait!" Her accent was heavy as her breath came in short pants. "We...we can't go."

Sam tilted his head, and Clint was sure he was narrowing his eyes underneath the mask. "Why not?"

She tightened her hold on her brother's hand. "They will take us back to Sokovia, and we can't go back."

"We are alone," Pietro agreed, silent tears running down his face. "Our parents were killed in their homes. We only just got away. They will send us back to die."

"Fuck." Clint swore, and Sam smacked him upside the head.

They turned towards one another, lowering their voices so that they wouldn't be overheard. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We can't call Cap, he'll be busy with the bar."

Sam placed both hands on his hips in frustration. "They could be lying, they could just be in some kind of trouble."

"They're kids, Falcon." Clint argued, careful to use their aliases in the field. "Even if they are, you really want to take that chance? What if something like this happens again?"

"Fuck."

"Hey, you just ragged on me for saying the same damn thing!" Clint protested, and Sam slapped him across the head again just for the sake of it.

He breathed out a ragged sigh, nodded to himself, then turned back to the twins. "Come with us, we'll figure out how to help you in the morning."

They both hesitated, so Clint stepped forward, "Hey, I'm not going to let anything else happen to you, okay? I'm going to need both of you to trust us. Can you do that?"

The Maximoff twins looked at each other, a silent, terrified conversation running between them before they shared a grimace and faced the two Avengers.

In his thick accent, Pietro held out his hand for Clint to take. "Yes, we can trust you."

XX

The Black Widow was known for being quick, efficient, and without any fanfare when it came to her kills. It was said that she could use almost anything around her as a weapon, that if you saw the black spider mask in your line of vision, you were just as likely to be shot down with whatever weapon was in her possession as you were to be strangled to death by a thread of string hanging loose from your curtains. She wasn't picky when deciding how her mark might meet their untimely death, as long as it was over swiftly.

However, for those who had the displeasure of watching her tear apart one of Zemo's warehouse, they might see her almost having..._fun_.

Natasha fucking loved her new toys. She didn't know how Tony figured her out, but she wasn't about to complain. The electricity coursing through the last mark was cut off as she removed the baton from the man's neck, leaving a scorched, bloody imprint. She made a note to thank the young genius later by taking him out for cheeseburgers. Tony loved his goddamn cheeseburgers.

She checked her time, twelve minutes left. Natasha holstered her batons and moved across the room, using the mechanical lock pick to thrust open the doors to the vault. She grabbed the two duffel bags from the floor by the entrance and started stuffing them with stacks of cash. When those were full and thrust into the trunk of the van, she grabbed two more and filled those as well, emptying the vault. Her watch gave a seven minute warning, so Natasha took the flashdrive from her pocket and stuck it into the port to the computer resting in the main office.

She tapped the line on her comm unit. "Bruce, are you in?"

"Got it." He answered, and she could hear his fingers dancing across the keyboard back at the Avenger's warehouse. "I'll handle this, you gather up any physical documents you think might be important."

Natasha gave her affirmative and spent the next few minutes digging through all of the desks, stacking them neatly into a large pile before her watch chimed, signaling the end of her time. "Gotta go."

"Nat-" Bruce interjected, his deep voice laced with panic. She furrowed her brow, pulling the flash drive out of the port and bustling out the door towards the van.

"Walking and talking, big guy."

He was silent, presumably looking over the material he found. "There's a file, too big to be a simple-" Bruce swore loudly in her ear, and she had to keep focused on the road as to not wrench the wheel to the side in surprise. He _never _cursed.

"What did you find?" She demanded, heartbeat ticking up a few notches for the first time all evening.

"I-I think I found the person who's responsible for Tony's kidnapping."

XX

The slight breeze that flickered by from the bay had a strange calming effect on Steve. It wasn't like he was nervous or anything, this mission was just like all the others, just with a little extra satisfaction tacked onto the end of it.

Revenge missions always tasted a little sweeter than the normal rings he was used to bringing down. Zemo had been warned, and he went on and did everything wrong anyway. Steve wanted to know if his target would be surprised to see him and Bucky, or if he was prepared to face death. Either way, he would know in about two minutes.

Steve cracked his neck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, and let The Captain take over. It was a smooth transition, one that his body and mind had fully come to accept. The only person who had a chance at breaking him apart was Tony, and he was blissfully asleep, thankfully resting before his presentation in the morning. So Steve was just left with the Captain, who was out for blood, and refused to be denied.

He nodded towards Bucky and slid his shield off his back, holding it up and cocking his gun as Bucky had and rolled his shoulders in front of the bar's front entrance. They had no desire to sneak in, or take them out from a long range. They had blocked off all other entrances, so there was no way out for the cowards who might try to run. The Captain wanted Zemo to know what was coming for him, and that there was no escape.

The Winter Soldier kicked in the door with one powerful boot, sending fractured, thin pieces of wood flying. The Captain threw his shield up in front of them both, letting the rain of bullets ricochet back towards the shooters, and he counted three men down with their own ammunition. He lowered it fractionally, giving the Soldier plenty of space to unload his round into the seven men hovering around the room. Shouts, curses, and screams erupted around them, but the Captain paid them no mind.

He checked his surroundings, ten men now dead across the blood-stained tile floor and eight more pouring out of the back room with their own weapons drawn. The Captain did the quick math in his head, and let his shield fly like a deadly boomerang, watching the sickeningly sharp edges slice into four of the men's tattooed chests and throats as it bounced between them, all while the Soldier held his ground at the Captain's back, covering him by nailing the remaining marks in the center of their foreheads.

The commotion died down as the shield returned to his gloved grip, and he slotted it into the holder on his back. Only three men remained, backed into a corner and shaking like the rats they were. The one in the middle, dark hair peppered with grey, and familiar scars hidden by sparse facial hair, examined the bodies strewn out in front of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Zemo hissed, arms stretched out to grasp his comrades wrists.

The Winter Soldier glowered at him, blue eyes practically burning a hole straight through his mark. He flexed his metal arm, drawing attention to it. "We're here to fulfill a promise."

The associate on Zemo's left narrowed his eyes, tracking over the metal arm and the shield, then shook his head in furious confusion. "What...what business do you have with the _Captain _and the Winter Soldier, Zemo?"

Zemo sputtered. "None! Are you _mad_? They aren't here for me!"

"Wrong." The Captain snapped, drawing back everyone's gazes. "We are here for you, Baron Zemo."

"W-Why?"

The Captain nodded towards the Soldier, who grunted in agreement and drew out the glock from his waist, disposing of the men on either side of Zemo. Their target screamed as his associates' blood painted his face. The Captain crouched down, his hulking mass hovering dangerously above the cowering man, and ripped off his cowl. "Because I gave you a warning twelve years ago, and you chose not to heed it."

Zemo's eyes widened and his lips parted in disbelief. "No-no! _Rogers_, how…" Bucky drew up his mask as well, and Zemo looked between the two Avengers. "Barnes...you are the Captain and the Winter Soldier..._how_!" He cried, words choked off as he remembered their last encounter.

"I don't actually think it matters," The Soldier mused. "You won't be around to remember the story anyway."

Their target clutched at his neck and tried to squirm away, but the Soldier caught the back of Zemo's hair with a sharp yank in his metal grip, tight and unescapable.

"The Soldier is right," The Captain confirmed, standing up and lifting his shield off of his back, fingering the edges. "Twelve years ago, I told you exactly what would happen if you laid a hand on another dame, and what do you do? Head up a sex trafficking operation. So now we're here, we found you. It's time to answer for your crimes, Baron Zemo."

Zemo screamed, writhing in the Soldier's grasp, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and pleas falling from his lips. "Please! _Please_! Anything, anything but that, please! _Have mercy_!"

The Captain raised his shield outwards, narrowing his eyes.

"No, I don't think I will."

And then he cut off Baron Zemo's head.

XX

Bruce was anxiously pacing in front of the warehouse doors when Clint buzzed him on a private communication line.

"Banner?"

He furrowed his brow, not wanting to be interrupted before getting a chance to tell Steve what he found, but Clint seemed insistent.

"_Banner_!"

Bruce sighed, and clicked the comm unit in his ear. "What is it Clint? I'm waiting on Steve."

"I need you to get your medical bag and meet Falcon and I in the alleyway five blocks north." His voice was insistent and laced with worry.

"What?" Bruce asked sharply, "Are you or Sam hurt? Why didn't you report it?"

Clint clicked his tongue in annoyance. "We're fine, Doc. We've got two of Zemo's victims here, and they need medical attention."

Bruce had already headed back inside to grab his bag, but paused as he lifted the strap to his shoulder. "Excuse me? Steve ordered you to make sure all of the victims were taken to the ambulances. They should be at a hospital!"

"I know what the orders were," He snapped. "They refused to go, they're freaked out that the police are going to send them back overseas." Clint's voice softened, and he implored, "They're just kids, Banner. They need someone to look after them." 

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Bruce sighed, and started the trek towards his destination. "I keep telling you guys that I'm not that kind of doctor...oh, and Clint?"

"Yeah, Doc?"

"You're the one who has to tell Steve."

"Shit."

XX

Steve's head crashed heavily against the leather headrest as Bucky drove them back towards the warehouse. It had been a long night, and all he wanted to do was get back home, shower, and crawl into bed with Tony. But alas, the Avengers needed to spend the next few hours in debrief, and if he was lucky, Steve might be able to catch his boyfriend before he had to leave for his presentation.

"Feel better?" Bucky asked with a sly, sideways glance at him.

Steve smirked and reached behind in the back to grab a stray towel and wipe the blood spatter off of his face. "I do, actually. Knowing Zemo is off the streets will help me sleep better."

"Until the next one comes around."

He furrowed his brow as he glanced over at his best friend. "What's that supposed to mean, Buck?"

Bucky shrugged, pulling up to a stoplight. "I'm just saying, where does it all end?"

"Who says it has to?"

"Well, nobody…" Bucky frowned. "But, it's not like we can do this forever, right?"

Steve huffed, swallowing hard as he moved his gaze back out the passenger window. When they started moving again, the dim lights from the lone streetlamps flickered by. "As long as the cities we love are in danger, the Avengers will be around to protect them."

Silence stretched on between them, and Steve wasn't sure what Bucky had hoped to accomplish. It wasn't the first time Bucky had mentioned retiring, but anytime Steve offered him an out, his best friend would refuse, always reminding him that they would be together 'till the end of the line.'

It's not like he'd never thought about it before, retiring. Finishing his art degree and working on actual projects and commissions. Maybe even opening a gallery one day to sell his paintings. Now that Tony was in his life, his fantasy life had expanded. Rather than sitting out by the Bay with a canvas and his supplies by himself, Steve pictured Tony beside him. They would be resting on a picnic blanket with a cooler full of white wine and sandwiches, taking a break from painting and whatever life-changing device Tony was sure to be working on. They would leave behind the gore and stress of the Avengers, the heartache and disappointment of SI. Steve and Tony would have nobody to look out for except each other, and they could spend their days making love, traveling the world, and maybe even look into starting a family one day.

But there was too much evil here in Boston to leave the city on its own. New York was at least being protected by Peggy and the Howling Commandos, but Boston's police department, led by one Nick Fury, wasn't winning any awards for keeping the crime and violence down. Ever since Coulson took the job in the FBI, Fury couldn't seem to close cases anymore. Steve had read through enough data to know that the Avengers were making a difference here in Boston, and he knew he couldn't just walk away from the life if there were people still in danger.

Steve loved Tony, but he wasn't sure if he could ever give up on the Captain. The fantasy he played out in his head of the two of them, happy and commitment free by the Bay side, was just that-a fantasy.

And he had a _reality_ to take care of.

Bucky pulled the car into one of the shipping containers the Avengers had redesigned as personal garages to stow their vehicles, in case a drone or helicopter ever searched for them, and turned off the ignition. His best friend clapped a hand onto his shoulder as they stepped out into the warm spring night air with lips twitching upwards. "You know I'll always have your back, right Stevie?"

Steve took a deep breath in and returned Bucky's smile. "I know, Buck. 'Till the end of the line."

XX

"Where the hell is everybody?" Bucky asked roughly. The pair stepped through the bay doors to reveal an empty warehouse where their team was supposed to be gathered.

Steve grunted in frustration and tapped his earpiece. "Widow, Falcon, Hawkeye, Banner, report, _now_."

A beat of silence before, "-Cap?"

"Sam, why aren't you at the warehouse?"

They could hear him grit his teeth together on the other side of the comm unit. "Uh, funny story about that...Hawkeye, why don't you tell him?"

Whispered bickering buzzed in their ears, and Bucky snapped with an audible click. "Shut the hell up, both of you, and tell us where you are."

Clint sighed. "We're just a few blocks north. We have some hitchhikers…"

"Send us your location." Steve ordered, annoyance leaching into his mind. All he wanted to do was go home to Tony, and now he had to go deal with whatever shit Clint and Sam had gotten the Avengers into. He threw the earpiece down onto the table. "Fuck."

Bucky ran his metal hand over his face and headed back towards the doors. "It can't be that bad, right? They didn't say anyone was hurt."

"Don't say shit like that, Buck. It's just asking for the universe to prove you wrong." He followed his not-so-superstitious best friend outside with his mask tucked away inside his pocket and started north. Ten minutes later, they met an anxious looking Natasha leaning up against a brick wall next to an alleyway, and Steve scowled at her. "What's going on?"

"We've got two problems." She answered neutrally, which Steve surmised meant that she was having trouble figuring out which to report first.

He exhaled loudly and squared his shoulders. "Which one is more pressing?"

Natasha thought for a moment, then tilted her head towards the alley. "This one, I suppose. Two of the victims, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, twin sixteen year olds, are here illegally. They refused to go to the hospital because once the police questioned them, they would be deported back to Sokovia. Apparently their home life isn't much better than what they've experienced here." She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. "Clint and Sam didn't want to compromise the Avengers, so they brought the kids here and Bruce is looking after them now. Everyone has a mask on in case they later need to identify us."

Bucky frowned and leaned his head towards the darkened alley for a peek. "You're fixin' up some kids while wearing the Avengers' masks? You're givin' them fuckin' nightmares, goddammit!"

"What would you have us do? If they get caught by the authorities, they could give the police a description." Natasha snapped back, her carefully composed temper waning. Steve narrowed his eyes. There had to be a lot more going on with Natasha than a simple matter of two immigrants. He assumed it had to do with their second problem, but he could only focus on one thing at a time.

"You did the right thing, Nat." Steve praised softly. "Let's go talk to them, and if I like their story, we'll bring them back to the warehouse."

Both she and Bucky raised their eyebrows in surprise, then looked at each other as if Steve had gone crazy. He shrugged, a small smirk dancing across his lips. "What? I have a soft spot for kids. Come on."

XX

Turns out, Stevie like their story.

Bucky grinned as he dumped himself into one of the conference rooms chairs, the wheels rolling him backwards a few inches. Back in the alley, Clint had introduced Wanda and Pietro to "The Captain" and "The Winter Soldier." Judging by the horrified looks on their faces, the kids had heard of them. They had some sort of rapport with Clint, however, because they trusted him at face value when he said nobody was going to hurt them.

Nevertheless, Pietro kept his torso in front of his sister during the entire interrogation, something Bucky admired about the kid. They told the Avengers about the murder of their parents back in Sokovia, and how they hid behind a fake wall in the closet of their basement. Apparently they were holed up there for days before it was finally safe to flee. They've been running ever since. Once they landed in America, they took up odd jobs around the marina and neighborhoods to pay for a shitty apartment. When Zemo's men put their hands on Wanda, Pietro tried to fight them off, but couldn't overpower men like that, and so they just took both of them. They'd only been captured two weeks or so before the Avengers rescued them, but neither of the Maximoffs were willing to discuss what they'd endured during that time frame.

Stevie had mulled over the information for a few minutes, then crouched down to the ground, where the twins were huddled up. Bruce had done a preliminary examination, and there were a few cracked ribs that were taped up, but no broken bones or head injuries were apparent. He told them that the Captain would decide where and how he would treat them further.

"What are you trying to accomplish here?"

The kids furrowed their brows, and glanced quickly at one another before turning back to The Captain, in the full cowl that masked his face. "What do you mean."

He tilted his head slightly. "I mean if we were to let you go, what kind of plans do you have? Do you want to go to school? Get an education? Find a job?"

Pietro tensed, but Wanda laid a gentle hand on her brother's arm. "This is the first time in our lives we are free," She implored, her heavy accent breaking with emotion. "We just want to live our lives. It will be difficult, we know. But we won't say anything about the Avengers, that we can promise. You saved us."

Stevie reached up and tore off his cowl, causing everyone's eyes to widen in blatant surprise. Bucky himself had drawn up, raising his hands outwards. "Uh, Cap, what the hell are you doing?"

His best friend just shrugged and offered the kids his hands. "I think we need to get these two some food, a shower, and new clothes. What do you say?"

After only a beat of hesitation, and a quick check-in glance at Clint, who had followed Steve's lead and torn off his mask as well, Wanda and Pietro each grasped Steve's hands and let him pull them to their feet.

And now, Bucky was enjoying one of the three dozen donuts and kolaches Sam had been roped into buying. The teenagers were shown to the locker rooms where the showers were located, and Nat had even let Wanda use her special shampoo. They looked astronomically better clean with fresh clothes, and although they still had their guard up, both Wanda and Pietro had relaxed a little.

Bucky glanced at the clock then back at Steve, who was bringing out his laptop at the front of the table for the debriefing. "Hey, Stevie, don't forget to text your boy-toy. He's probably on his way to campus by now."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "Already did. He called on his way, Thor is taking him. We'll fill him in on everything once he's finished." He checked that everyone was in their seats before clearing his throat and reassuming his Captain persona. "Alright, let's take it from the top, shall we? Clint, Sam, you start. Then Wanda and Pietro-"

"Steve-" Bruce tried interrupting, but the man in question shook his head. Bucky could tell that all Steve wanted to do was get through this as quickly as possible. It had been a long ass night for all of them, and it would be a while before anyone could get some sleep.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until it's your turn to report." He quipped in that weirdly polite tone that _really _told everyone that he wouldn't tolerate another interruption. "Sam, you start."

XX

"You're going to be great, Sweetheart." Steve encouraged softly on the other end of the phone call.

Tony didn't even try to stop the pleased smile that played at his lips, though he did turn in the passenger seat so that Thor couldn't see him. "Thanks, Steve. I feel prepared." He squirmed a little bit. "Did everything go okay last night? Thor said it did, but I'm still worried."

There was a beat of hesitation before he answered, which instantly caused Tony to straighten. "The team is fine, and the mission went as planned."

"Wait, how are you simultaneously telling me the truth and lying at the same time?"

"Tony, love, everything's okay. I'll fill you in as soon as you get home. Focus on your presentation first."

He huffed and rolled his eyes, smirking at Thor when he chuckled. "Fine, but not a minute later, okay?" 

"You got it," Steve agreed. "I love you. Good luck."

"Love you too." Tony replied faintly before hanging up the phone. He tapped it against his chin, wondering what the hell could have happened last night for Steve to be acting like that. It wasn't like his boyfriend was keeping things from him, Steve _did _promise to fill him in later.

"Our friend Barnes assures me everything is fine." Thor grinned, pulling into the student parking lot, the appropriate tag Steve had bought for them hanging off of the rearview mirror. "Simply focus on your meeting, and we will meet with our comrades afterwards for a celebration."

Tony shrugged in acceptance and hopped out of the truck once Thor put it in park. He shouldered his backpack, and frowned at Thor when he turned off the ignition and got out as well. "Where are _you _going Point-Break?"

"To escort you to your meeting room, Friend Tony."

"I am perfectly capable of walking two buildings away, big guy." He tried to explain, walking backwards along the sidewalk. Anyone in his way moved quickly, considering the hulking norse god following in his wake.

Thor grinned again, wide and blinding. "Of course you are, but I do so enjoy your company."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're-" Tony paused when Thor's eyes flickered behind him, and whatever he saw caused all of the blood to drain from his face. Thor's hand reached out quickly to grab onto the front of his jacket, but before he could, someone else's clapped him on the shoulder.

He was spun around roughly, and all the air was punched out of him when his gaze fell upon _their _faces.

"D-dad? Obie?"

XX

Tony's brain was filled with the same fear-induced incessant buzzing that clouded his mind after Hydra caused his car accident. His father, the man who willingly gave his son more emotional and physical scars than any child should ever have to endure, and Obadiah Stane, the godfather who sat back and watched it all happen with a smile on his face, towered over him in a way even Thor never could.

Howard Stark's grip on his shoulder was borderline painful, and years of classical conditioning told him that if he struggled to get out of it, it would only hurt worse. "What the hell are you doing here?" He would have been proud of himself for keeping his voice steady if he weren't so goddamn terrified.

Thor was at his back in an instant, hovering protectively and glaring at the two powerful men.

His father simply regarded them with a cold, distant expression, but Obie had the good sense to smile and clap his hands together like it was a meeting of old friends to avoid any interested passerbys. "Tony, my boy! It's good to see you on your feet, we heard about the terrible accident."

Although his tone was warm and concerned, something about the glint in his eye sent a warning static current through him, causing the hairs on his arms to rise. "I uh, yeah, I'm fine now."

Obie nodded understandingly and reached out to pat him on the back, trying to encourage some distance between him and Thor, but the taller man would not be moved. His godfather frowned for a moment, then replaced it with a wide grin. "So happy to hear that, Tony! Well, we just heard that you had your final Thesis Defense this morning, and wanted to wish you luck."

Tony narrowed his eyes, leaning back minisculely into Thor, but his father felt the movement and tightened his grip. Tony called on his willpower to not wince.

"Excuse me?"

Howard sneered in front of him. "You heard him, boy. You'll finally complete your education, just like you always wanted." The sneer turned into a feral grin, and the bottom of Tony's stomach dropped. "And then you can come home and take your place at SI."

Tony couldn't help it, he flinched back hard as if he'd been slapped, and he heard a surprised grunt come from Thor as well. "What? I'm not going back there!" He argued hotly, ignoring the nails digging into his shoulder.

"Your father's had a change of heart, son." Obie remarked with an air of forced sympathy. "Cutting you off was a heat of the moment decision, and we all know that the company needs to stay in the family."

"I don't want _anything _to do with SI," Tony hissed, now actively trying to shake off his father's hold. "I'm not going to be making weapons for you!"

Turns out Obie was done pretending that this conversation was negotiable. His eyes grew dark and his voice took on a sharpness to it that screamed at Tony to get the hell away from him. "I'm afraid it's already been decided. Howard is changing his will next week to name youas the sole heir to Stark Industries, but with a few _conditions_." The sudden venom in his voice caused Tony to swallow thickly. But just as suddenly as it arrived, the harshness was gone, leaving behind the icy threat. "We've had our lawyers be sure to include clauses that require you to keep our current military contracts, and submit new specs and inventions every quarter. It's a _beauty _of a document if I do say so myself." Obie's assessment of the end of his life was jarring, and Tony suddenly found himself very, very dizzy.

Howard stepped in closer, and although Tony couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath, the memory of this exact position so many times before, always resulting in a fresh scar somewhere hidden on his body, made his gut churn in disgust. "You hear that? So as soon as you get that degree in your hand, it's better to just come on home and get back to work. Your momma's been worried sick about you, boy, and you haven't even had the decency to pick up the phone to let her know you're still in one piece. She's in the car, waiting for me to bring her back news." Howard scoffed, "Wouldn't shut up about leaving this to me to handle. Both her and Obie fuckin' insisted that she come to talk some sense into you, boy. The second you get your papers, you meet us down at the Four Seasons, you hear?"

Thor, that blessed greek god of a man, must have sensed Tony's mounting distress, because he snatched both sets of hands away from him and pushed between the three men. Thor was menacing in a way Obie and Howard could never dream of being, radiating power and nobility. "We will be taking our leave now. Tony has his presentation to attend." He told them darkly, pushing forward until both men skidded back along the sidewalk.

"Wait!" Tony croaked, then blinked in surprise that he was able to say anything at all. But all he could think about was how he had tried so _damn hard_ to get out from underneath his father's thumb, and now they were forcing him back under. A life where they abused him, physically and emotionally, stole his ideas, and tricked him into building weapons for terrorists. If everything Obie and his father were saying was true, then everything Tony had done simply for _himself _up until this point would be _worthless_, and he couldn't let that stand.

It meant _everything _to him that he'd been able to meet Steve and his team. The Avengers had become his friends, and Steve...he was Tony's rock, his true north. His father and Obie wanted to erase the type of person Tony had become, to discredit all that Steve, Pepper, Rhodey, Bucky, Bruce, Clint, Sam, Nat, Thor, Peter, and Harley had helped turn him into. And that was such utter and complete _bullshit_.

If everything they said couldn't be avoided, then he refused to be emotionally tied to his past, to revert back to the scared, bitter puppet he use to be. They might have control over his future works, but they would _never _be able to dictate his mind or his emotions again. Tony thought back to Bucky's words, about not letting the bitterness, anger, and heartache in his past manipulate his future.

Tony wouldn't survive the future if his past still sat heavily on his heart.

"I…" He muttered, lips barely moving over the words. "I wish you had been better."

Everyone turned to stare incredulously at him, and the light grip on Tony's arm squeezed just a hair, gently checking to see if Tony was alright.

He swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, but continued. He _needed _to get this out, needed to stand up to Howard one last time. "I wish you had been a better father," Tony nodded towards Obie before looking back at his dad, "A better godfather. I love my family, it's practically ingrained in me, but I honestly don't understand how any of you can look yourselves in the mirror. You might control me after my graduation, that's fine, whatever, but I'll _never _be under your influence again. I'm my own person, and I refuse to kneel down to men like you."

Before either man could snap back at him, Thor hauled him off and around the side of the Liberal Arts building and propped him up against the grey stone. His words might have felt good to finally get off his chest, but all Tony wanted to do was upheave his breakfast right then and there on the sidewalk. Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his pants came in quicker and sharper. Any life he'd dreamt up for his future, a clean energy empire, a small but intimate ceremony with Steve, adopting a girl and watching her play in the park with all of her aunts and uncles...all of it was slipping through his fingers like sand, the tears he couldn't hold back crushing them into the ground.

Large meaty hands gingerly pulled aside his rumpled collar to get a look at the purpling bruise on his shoulder, and Tony tried weakly to push him away.

"_Stark_," Thor called out to him, but Tony felt like he was underwater. Sounds were distorted, and he felt like he was about to sink down onto the sidewalk. Thor shook him lightly, and tapped his index finger against Tony's chin to force his gaze to his own. "I need you to _focus_, Anthony."

"What?" He rasped, the word coming out of his dry throat stale and cracked.

"I deeply apologize for allowing your father to lay a hand on you." He lamented solemnly. "And the Avengers will deal with their idle threats, but for now, you need to focus on your thesis defense."

Tony almost laughed, if it were even possible in the state of shock he was in. "_Idle_ threats? Do you know the kind of lawyers my family has, Point-Break? They were serious, I'm...I'm…" He sucked in a haggard breath, and his knees gave out on him, but luckily Thor was right there to hoist him back onto his shaky feet. "I'm trapped. There's no getting out of this…"

"_Anthony_!" Thor snapped, and Tony found himself flinching away from the sharpness in his tone. His giant friend placed his hands on the side of the head reassuringly and in apology. "We _will _deal with everything later, but you need to forget about all of that for now. You're due in the meeting room in five minutes." He knocked his forehead softly against Tony's, and it had a strange way of grounding him. It wasn't an intimate or romantic gesture, it felt more like they were two comrades on the battlefield, preparing to face their greatest threat yet.

He blinked, suddenly clear-headed for the first time since seeing his father and Obie. "I-you're right. I need to get my head in the game." Oh god, now he was quoting High School Musical? How much did that sudden meeting fuck him up?

Thor gave him a serious nod and stepped back. "I shall alert our dear Captain of this new development. No doubt he will wish to retrieve you from campus."

Tony swallowed again and rubbed at his face with the palms of his hand. "Okay, it should only take about two hours. Tell him to meet me outside, okay?"

The norse god of a man reached out to grasp Tony's forearm lightly in his personal 'brothers in arms' handshake. Tony smiled weakly at him and squeezed back, then stepped away and rushed into the Engineering building.

He had a doctorate to earn, then he could deal with everything _else_ after.

XX

"Thank you both for speaking about the attack, I know how difficult it must have been for you." Steve told the teenagers earnestly. They were good kids who'd been through an ungodly amount, and his heart ached for them. He wasn't sure what all he could do for them, at least not without talking to Tony first, but he did want to help. Besides the addition of the Maximoffs, Clint and Sam's report was pretty standard.

Natasha's knee was bouncing almost obsessively, lightly tapping the end of the table, and it was starting to fry Steve's nerves. Both she and Bruce were acting stranger than usual, and it made him uneasy. "Alright, Nat, tell us what you found."

She instantly jumped to her feet and reached out to jerk Bruce up to his feet, causing the rest of the Avengers to lean back at the aggressiveness. "Everything went fine. I grabbed the cash and a stack of paperwork like you asked. I'll be headed to count it after our debriefing." She took a deep breath to steady herself, and Bucky straightened in his chair on Steve's right. "But when I started uploading the information from Zemo's computer to Bruce, he found something."

Every eye warily turned to Bruce, who was looking a little green around the edges. He leaned down to his laptop, his fingers dancing across the keys, and brought up something on the screen before blowing it up onto the projector. "Zemo was surprisingly organized, he liked to be able to find his files relatively quickly. He must not have thought he would ever get caught, because the naming structure was easy to decipher. The client lists are divided up by monetary means, which suggests the higher profiles bring in the most cash." He explained, his voice wavering slightly.

"Bruce, what did you find?" Steve asked, a sickening feeling worming its way into his stomach. He had already pushed up from his chair, leaning his knuckles against the wood in front of him.

The scientist grimaced and double clicked a key on his laptop. The temperature in the conference room shifted, suddenly too hot and too humid for Steve to take a breath. The lack of oxygen caused a chaotic red to seep into the edges of his vision, and Steve barely felt the table crack underneath his weight.

"Who is Obadiah Stane?" Wanda asked, squinting up at the screen and looking around at the obviously tense Avengers, but everything was too far away for Steve to really register the question.

Bucky growled to his right, the whirring in his metal arm louder than normal. "He's the CEO of Stark Industries. We've been looking for proof of someone in SI's inner circle double dealing with terrorists, and here it is."

"He's got to be the one who told fuckin' Hydra about Tony!" Clint swore furiously and sank down, running his hands through his hair.

Steve's head snapped up. "_Tony_. He needs to know. Now" He pulled out his phone and switched it back on. The rest of them followed his lead, as the Avengers were required to turn off all communication devices during a debrief.

As soon as the light came back on, dozens of messages and missed call notifications popped up on the screen. Steve's heart rate spiked as he read through Thor's messages, and the blood fell too quickly from his face. He jumped towards the corner of the room where a wastebasket sat, dropping his head into it and upheaving the donuts they ate earlier that morning.

_Thor: Captain, you must call me at once_

_Thor: Two men found Tony before he reached his presentation. Howard Stark and Obadiah Stane_

_Thor: They threatened him, and somehow ensured that he go back to work for Stark Industries_

_Thor: I am unsure how these legal proceedings occurred, but Tony is severely unhappy_

_Thor: Please, Captain, call me_

_Thor: His father laid a hand to him, causing a bruise to his shoulder. Other than than, he is physically unharmed_

_Thor: I was able to pull him away and prepare him for his presentation. _

_Thor: He is there now. I believe he will succeed in his endeavor, but I cannot speak to the threats Stark and Stane brought forth._

_Thor: I shall eagerly await your arrival outside of his building_

"Stevie!" Bucky called out, grasping at his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Steve heaved one more time, emptying the contents of his stomach, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "They were on _campus_, Buck, _waiting _for Tony." He gasped and let Bucky help him to his feet. The Avengers huddled around him with their hands outstretched, unsure of what they could do to help.

Bruce pushed his way through them and pulled out a small flashlight to check Steve's eyes, worried that he might have hit his head during the raid against Zemo. He waved the scientist away and straightened with a harsh breath. "Howard Stark and Obadiah Stane were on MIT's campus. Thor said that Tony's okay, that he's inside the Engineering building right now. I _need _to get to him."

His team and the Maximoff twins shuffled out of his way quickly, the thunderous expression on his face enough to send anyone reeling backwards. He stormed towards the front entrance with Bucky on his heels, who grabbed a set of keys from the rack. His best friend held them up with a nod. "I'll drive."

As they opened up the sedan's doors to step in, Natasha came sprinting out of the warehouse and knocked on the hood of the car with an open palm. "Wait!"

Steve expression darkened. "Nat-"

"_No_!" She cut him off with another smack to the hood. "Steve, you _need _to see this."

Steve and Bucky looked at each other with furrowed brows, then returned their gaze to Natasha. She rushed over to the passenger side and held out her phone. "Howard and Maria Stark were just killed in a car bombing thirty miles east"

"_What_?" Bucky asked sharply, leaning over the console to see the headline.

"They had a police escort from MIT's campus," She explained with a severe frown. "Which was how the police and the reporters knew who the victims were so quickly." Natasha reached out to grip Steve's arm. "Cap, Obadiah Stane was _supposed_ to be in that car with them, they drove there together. But the report says he _chose_ to stay behind this time. On campus."

"Fuck." Bucky swore, and Steve wanted to be sick again. There was no doubt in his mind that Obadiah Stane had planted that bomb. He handed Tony over to Hydra like a pig to slaughter two months ago, and had just murdered Howard and Maria Stark.

Red swam into his vision, and could practically feel the Captain taking over. He straightened in his seat, tilted his head side to side, cracking the joints in his neck loudly, and slammed the passenger side door, forcing Natasha out of the way. Steve's fingers curled into a fist and he beat it against the dash. "He's going after Tony. _Drive_."

XX

"Mr. Stark, we are pleased to inform you that we as a committee have unanimously agreed to pass your Artificial Intelligence thesis. You are astoundingly talented, and we cannot wait to see what you bring to the world next."

Tony exhaled with a sigh of relief and grinned brightly, shaking the hands of each of the five committee members. He had finally done it, earned his third doctorate degree and completed all of the schooling he wanted. The sense of accomplishment only flitted through his mind briefly before he recalled the encounter with his father and Obie. Damn, even to this day, their favorite thing to do was wrench away any pride he ever hoped to feel.

But Tony had Steve, and the Avengers. He trusted his friends to get him out of this mess, one way or another. Maybe he could talk to his dad before he changed the will, anything to keep him from returning to SI, where someone was _waiting _for him. Someone in the inner circle had told Hydra about his abilities, and had almost gotten him killed for it. He wouldn't go back there, no matter what they had to say.

He waved a polite goodbye to the committee and slung on his backpack. Tony squared his shoulders, ready to meet Steve, who was sure to be waiting outside by now, and stepped out into the hallway. As he walked past the bathrooms, the faint observation that the building was suspiciously empty flitting across the back of his mind,, a hand reached out behind him, forcing a rag into his mouth and over his nose.

Tony fought wildly at the sudden attack, trying to reach out and activate his repulsors, but his movements grew sluggish as he inhaled what he now recognized as chloroform. He tried to cry out, kick back, _anything _to breathe in fresh oxygen into his lungs, but the compound flooded his central nervous system and shut down any fight he had left.

Then everything went black.

XX

By the time Steve and Bucky pulled up to the curb near the engineering building with a piercing screech, they could see a huddle of people formed right along the steps. The two Avengers grimaced to each other, knowing that whatever had drawn a crowd couldn't be good news. Steve's footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the students parted for them quickly with wide, nervous eyes.

A nursing student was on her knees checking the pulse of an unconscious-

_Fuck_.

It was Thor. He was breathing, thank fuck, but a trickle of blood was matted into his hair.

Bucky swore loudly and pulled out his phone to call Bruce while Steve knelt down beside the girl. "This is my friend, did you see what happened?" He asked as calmly as he dared. All he really wanted to do was grab each one of these kids by their scrawny necks and demand that they tell him everything, but that kind of thinking wasn't going to help Thor, and it certainly wasn't going to help him find Tony.

She shook her head rapidly, and spoke as she tried to haul him over to his back with no avail. Steve took over from there while she cradled his head and brought out a thin flashlight. "No, I just heard someone calling for help. It looks like he took a hit to the side of his head though. Maybe someone in the crowd might know something?"

Steve spun around, eyes scanning through the spectators before landing on a tall, thin boy with messy sandy blonde hair. As soon as their eyes met, he jumped up in recognition. "Steve?"

"Harley?"

Harley pushed forward through two students and stepped up nervously. "What happened? Who is that?"

Steve's brow furrowed, "This is my friend, Thor. Did you see anything?"

Bucky chose then to end his call and step up beside his best friend, metal arm covered by a sweatshirt and gloves. "Bruce and the others are on their way. Do we have anything else?"

They both looked at Harley.

His eyes widened, and Steve could see him swallow nervously. "I was coming out of the dining hall across the way from an early breakfast," Harley jerked his head in the general direction, "when I saw someone running into the building and this guy on the ground. It's pretty early, so no one else was really on campus, so I came over to see why he wasn't getting up, and found him like this."

Steve snapped his head towards Bucky, who nodded and took off into the engineering building. Steve brought his attention back to Harley. "What can you tell me about the man who was running away?"

"I didn't get a good look at him." He admitted solemnly, "All I know was that he was in a suit."

Steve pushed a little harder. "How tall would you say he was? What color hair, if he had hair at all? Did he have anything in his hands?"

Harley pinched the bridge of his nose and squatted down beside Steve and the girl who was still working on getting Thor to open his eyes. "I don't...Ugh!" He grunted in frustration and closed his eyes, trying to think back. They snapped open and Harley shook his head. "No, he didn't have hair. It was a dark suit."

Steve had to take a few deep breaths to keep from screaming out his fury. It was Stane, just as he'd suspected. Bucky came back down the steps, a solemn expression on his face, and Steve knew exactly what words were about to come out of his mouth.

"They're gone. There was a sign of a struggle outside of Tony's meeting room. Air reeks of something sweet."

They both sighed and confirmed together, "Chloroform."

"What?" Harley squeaked, reminding them that they had an audience.

Bucky drew up to his full height and scowled at the hovering students. "Alright munchkins, scatter. We've got this handled."

"But-" The nursing student tried to argue, but Steve cut her off.

"We're taking him to a doctor," He assured her. "What's your name?"

She still looked uncertain as she told him, "Sarah."

"Sarah, my name is Steve. Thank you for looking after my friend until we could get here. We're going to get him taken care of, alright?"

"But why would there be chloroform in the building?" She stressed, shaking off the small praise.

Steve grunted, but answered her questions as he and Bucky grabbed onto either side of Thor. "Don't worry about that. All you really need to know is that there is a bad man out there, and we're going to stop him."

Harley's brow flew into his hair. "I didn't know you were law enforcement."

Bucky snickered and they both hauled Thor upwards, then started making their way towards the van. "Something like that, kid. Get back to class."

The whole ordeal couldn't have lasted longer than ten minutes, because the rest of the Avengers pulled up behind them as soon as they got Thor inside. Bruce hopped out of their car with his medical bag and scurried in behind Thor.

"Wanda and Pietro are back at the warehouse, Cap." Clint told him. "Where do you want us?"

His team surrounded the car, waiting for their orders.

"Stane has Tony, I'm sure of it." He explained, resentment and anger seeping into his bones. "Clint, find every available security camera in the area and review the footage. There has to be something we can use. Nat, start working on tracking Tony's cell phone. Sam, you and Bruce take Thor to the ER and keep us updated on his condition. Buck, you give Tony's friends a call to let them know what's going on, and I'll canvas the engineering building and see if anyone else saw anything."

He looked around at his team, all willingly prepared to do whatever it takes to get Tony back, and nodded, sending them all into motion. Steve swallowed down on the consuming rage and let revenge fantasies flit through his mind while heading back towards the building from which Tony was taken.

Stane had _no idea_ what was coming for him.

XX

When Tony's eyes flickered open, he had just a spare moment to think _'thank fuck my chest isn't cracked open this time_,' before his godfather's face filled his vision.

"Finally," Obie-no, Stane, spat, his suit, now missing the jacket, rumpled with his white sleeves rolled up. A slight sheen of sweat peppered his forehead, and he looked to have been pacing before Tony woke up. "You took forever to wake up."

Tony popped a brow and subtly tried to move in his seat. No luck, Stane had tied him to a chair with his arms forced behind his back. "Then maybe you shouldn't have used such a large dose of chloroform. You want my kidneys to get fucked up?"

Stane snorted, a disgusting, demeaning sound. "I don't give a fuck what happens to your kidneys, Stark. If I had it my way, you'd already be dead."

There was no denying the spike of hurt that struck Tony's heart at hearing that his godfather didn't care if he lived or died. "Then why am I still alive?"

A flutter of motion, and Stane had grabbed a stack of folders from Tony's side, and began throwing him down on the table in front of him. "This is why."

Tony's eyes widened as the files piled up, the aliases labeled on the side of each one.

_Black Widow_

_Hawkeye_

_The Falcon_

_The Winter Soldier_

_The Captain_

XX

As predicted, the only avenue that panned out in the search for Tony was tracking his cell phone. Even if Stane had destroyed it, which he most likely did, Bruce had suggested that each of them insert a tracking device inside so that he and Tony could keep an eye out on everybody's locations in the field.

Steve had never been more thankful for his genius.

The signal wasn't too far away, and the Avengers were currently gearing up to break into the foreclosed home Stane had settled into.

He would be accompanied by Bucky, Nat, Clint, and Sam, leaving their two potential new recruits, Wanda and Pietro, back at the warehouse and Bruce at the hospital with Thor. He'd woken up, thank god, with only a minor concussion, but he was in no shape to join them in the raid.

Thor felt miserably guilty at letting Stane get the drop on him, but Steve had learned a lot about forgiveness from Tony back when Hydra first got ahold of him. It wasn't Sam or Bruce's fault that a few lunatics had crashed into their car, and it wasn't Thor's fault that a madman had knocked him upside the head with a brick. If Tony could forgive them, then so could Steve.

He was furiously out of his mind with worry, but a nagging voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Tony reminded him that Tony had come a long way. He wasn't in the dark about the Avengers, and he was perfectly capable of protecting himself. Sure, Stane might have him locked up somewhere, but Steve wouldn't put it past his boyfriend to find his way out before his friends even got to him.

Steve almost felt sorry for Stane, given what was coming to him.

_Almost_.

XX

"The _Avengers_. They were the ones who rescued you from Hydra, and I know they just dismantled Baron Zemo's operation last night."

Stane rapped his knuckles against the heavy metal, the sound reverberating around the small, darkened room. "I know you know who they are, and I want names."

Tony blinked, wide in faux confusion, still staring at Steve's alias. He narrowed his eyes and returned his gaze to Stane. "Why do you care about the Avengers?"

"Why do I…" Stane looked at Tony like he was an idiot. "Did you just fucking forget everything that happened before Howard cut the damn cord?"

"Of course not," He sneered back. He knew what Stane was playing at, trying to get him to connect the Howling Commandos, who decimated Hydra in New York, to the Avengers in Boston. There was no way Tony was going to play his little game.

"Then don't play the idiot, Stark. You know that the Commandos are the ones who put SI under investigation three years ago. I put in the work, kept the feds off my back as much as possible. But thanks to the fuckin' Captain and his cronies, we lost one of our biggest Clients." He let out a cruel laugh that made Tony want to cringe backwards. "And when I try to pawn _you_ off, who, to my surprise, comes to your rescue?"

Stane leaned forward so close that the pungent smell of cigars and ash filled his nostrils. "The fuckin' _Captain_, and his _new_ band of cronies, the Avengers, that's who." His godfather stepped back, returning to pace the length of the small room, which Tony could now recognize as a closed off basement. "Research can only get me so far, however, and they're pretty damn good at covering their tracks. But I want to find the Captain and his little sidekicks, and watch them _burn_ for messing with me!" He shouted in frustration and brought his fist down onto the table, making it vibrate against Tony's bound legs.

"And you're going to help me do just that, Stark."

Yeah, that wasn't fucking happening. There wasn't anything Stane could do to him to make him give up Steve. Not that he ever planned on letting him so much as try. He was _Tony fucking Stark_, for Christ's sake, he had a few tricks up his sleeves.

Literally.

But he needed just a little bit more time for the team to find him.

"Why would you think I know anything about the Avengers?" He argued hotly, putting on the best show he could by writhing in his restraints. "I didn't know who they were when they saved me from Hydra,_ thank you_ for that by the way, _asshole_, and then they just disappeared!"

"Please," Stane wrote him off with a flick of his wrist. "I helped _raise_ you, boy, you think I don't know when you're lying? I've been paying attention, watching the Avengers closely, and I would recognize your designs anywhere. You started making weapons again, and for the same fuckers who are trying to take down my company!"

"_Your_ company?" Tony asked incredulously. He'd been playing his role of the dumbfounded victim well, but that threw him off his game.

All of a sudden, Stane's scowl curled upwards into a smirk, and it sent chills down his spine. "Ah, right, _of course_. You don't know…"

Tony's stomach bottomed out, and he gritted through clenched teeth. "Know _what_?"

"Your idiot of a father was going to change his will, leaving everything to you, even after cutting you off." His godfather explained, his voice an icy rumble. "After your little tantrum, and the rather _precarious_ position he found you in with that boy, I convinced him that I would be best suited to run SI. But he just couldn't let it go," Stane raged, throwing his hands up in the air. "He needed his _heir_ to take over. His fucking _legacy_. Howard left me with only one real option, of course."

Tony tried shaking his head, unwanted emotions swelling up and thickening inside his throat. "Hydra. You tried to get me killed because my dad wanted to bring me back into the family."

"And it would have worked, too!" Stane snapped. "If you hadn't somehow managed to dig your greedy little claws into the Avengers. I don't know how you did it, boy, but you got them to trust you." His boisterous indignation simmered down so that it shook beneath the surface, and he stalked over to the corner behind Tony and brought out a medical bag, setting it onto the metal table beside a loaded glock.

"You survived, of course, and had your mother in fits. They were both becoming insufferable, and had finally decided to welcome you back, with open arms." He spat the words, as if it left a rotten taste in his mouth. "I tried to convince them otherwise, but they wouldn't hear of it. So I had to put my undue influence to good use. If Howard was going to try and change the will, you needed _restrictions_. _Guidelines_. Not that I ever had any intention of letting him get that far."

Tony's eyes narrowed. He didn't understand, not completely, and it was bugging the shit out of him. "What…?"

Stane grinned, malicious and self-satisfied. "I wasn't about to let him leave SI to you, Stark. It belongs to me. While you were in your little presentation, I took care of everything."

_No. _

That wasn't _possible_.

"You didn't…" He croaked, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

His godfather laughed cruelly at him. "Oh, yes I did. With a car bomb, in fact. And you're my only loose end, it seems. But I can't let you die without knowing the Captain and his Avengers' identities." Stane unzipped the bag and let the black material roll out, lined with an array of razor sharp medical tools. "And I plan on getting that information out of you by any means necessary."

Tony had heard enough. He closed his eyes, counting how long it had been since Stane had taken him and comparing it to the time he knew it took to track his cell phone. The Avengers couldn't be far behind. And then the man who was the source of so much pain, who betrayed him and killed his parents, would _finally _be dead.

He took a deep breath and fingered at his own wrist, activating the device that was hidden beneath his cheap suit and angled it downwards . Tony had two good blasts in him, and he needed to make them count. Stane had chosen his first torture device and approached him with a feral grin. Tony snarled, "Get the fuck away from me!"

The repulser fired off, slicing straight through his restraints, and the richote of the blast hitting the ground behind him sent Tony flying forward, where he swiped the knife out of Stane's hands and in one fluid movement, cut through the bindings around his feet. He rolled to the side and threw out his hands towards his godfather. "Take another step, and I will obliterate you." Tony warned fiercely. "And I don't want to do that."

Stane's eyes widened in bewildered fear before Tony's words sunk in, and his lips twitched upwards into harsh laugh. "_Of course_ you don't want to do that, Tony. We're family, and you wouldn't want to hurt family, would you?"

A deafening crash sounded above them, and Tony shivered in relief. Steve was _here_. He was coming for him.

"No, I'm going to let him do that for me."

Stane whirled around with a bit-off curse, reaching for the gun resting on the edge of the table, but Tony shot his last repulsor in the general direction, sending the table, the gun, and the medical bag sprawling onto the floor with a loud clatter.

The blast threw Stane reeling backwards into the opposing wall at the same the door was kicked in. A flurry of residual smoke wafted around Tony's field of vision, but he would recognize that hulking body anywhere. Once you've run your tongue along every square inch of skin like that, it was impossible to forget.

_Steve_.

He was in his black stealth suit, the thick material stretching over his rippling muscles, and his cowl, leaving only his lips and cerulean blue eyes exposed. The red, white, and blue shield shone as a beacon through the smoke as it dissipated, and Steve only had eyes for Tony while Bucky rushed to secure Stane and Sam guarded the door.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." He reassured, melting against the hands that flitted over his face, arms, and chest to check for any obvious injuries. "Cap, seriously, I'm good." Tony soaked in the comfort of his boyfriend's closeness and grasped Steve's jaw. "It's _him_. He was the one working with Hydra. He was the one who sold me out. He-" Tony's voice cut off in choked sob. "My _parents_, Cap, they're-"

"I know." Steve whispered somberly, gripping his wrists lightly. "I know, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

Tony sucked in a steadying breath and raised his own sharp gaze to Steve's. "Make. Him. Pay."

The Captain who stood before him shuddered at the command and Tony realized with a start that he was one of the only people in the _world_ that could give this powerful man an order. The sheer force of gratitude and love that came with that understanding sent him reeling, and Tony leaned forward to press his lips lightly against Steve's. "Please."

"With pleasure." He promised, kissing him gently once more before turning to face Stane.

Tony's godfather was sputtering in disbelief in the chokehold Bucky had him in, maniacal laughter escaping his throat. "How could I have _missed_ that? You're _fucking_ The Captain, of _course_ you are! You useless fucking slut-"

Steve slotted his shield into place on his back, and snapped a hand to Stane's newly exposed throat, squeezing it tightly to cut him off. "You have much to answer for tonight, Stane." He explained with barely contained fury. "But disrespecting what's _mine_ will be the first grievance to be punished."

As much as Tony wanted to watch Stane get what was coming to him, he wasn't sure he could actually stomach it. Steve, thank fuck, seemed to understand this without it needing to be said. Without looking away from Stane, he called out to Sam. "Falcon, take Tony home. We'll handle it from here."

XX

Bucky adjusted his unyielding grip to hold Stane's arms back behind him, forcing his knees down firmly on the cold unforgiving ground. Steve's hand was still curled around his throat, eyes burning with such righteous fury that even got Bucky's blood pumping. His best friend was going to _fuck shit up_.

Steve pulled out a thick piece of cloth from his pouch and stretched it over Stane's mouth, forcing it between his teeth and tying it off sharply. "You're going to want to scream, and I can't have anyone interrupting us."

He glanced around the room and caught sight of the medical tools Stane meant to use on Tony, and Bucky could practically see the gears working in his mind. Steve crossed the room in two strides and picked up the bag, selecting an assortment of tools.

"Obadiah Stane, I want to make myself perfectly clear." Steve explained calmly, shoulders back and head held high. "You _will _die here tonight, and I have every intention of making your death as excruciatingly painful as possible. You've done many evil things over the years, but hurting the ones I love the most is simply unforgivable."

Stane writhed against Bucky, his screams muffled by the gag. But there was nobody that could save him now that the Avengers were finally taking their revenge.

XX

_O'Riley: "Sarah O'Riley here, WCVB, with Boston Police Detective, Sharon Carter. Detective Carter, thank you for speaking with us. Can you please elaborate on what happened here today?"_

_Carter: "Thank you for having me, Sarah. At approximately ten a.m. this morning, there was an attack upon the Stark family, one of the most prominent families here in the United States. Howard and Maria Stark were killed in a car bombing while driving on the I-95, along with seven other victims nearby at the time of the blast. During that time, their son Anthony, just a few days shy of twenty-one, was kidnapped. He has since been rescued and is resting comfortably at home with close friends."_

_O'Riley: "My heart breaks for young Anthony. Sharon, tell us, do you have any suspects yet?"_

_Carter: "Thanks to an anonymously submitted recording, we have a confession from Stark Industries CEO, Obadiah Stane. On the recording, he admits to selling SI weapons to the terrorist organization, Hydra, arranging for the first kidnapping and attack on young Anthony that occurred a few months ago, the murder of Howard and Maria Stark, and the most recent kidnapping against Anthony. Unfortunately, we were not able to question Stane about his involvement, because at seven-thirty this evening, officials found his body in the basement of a foreclosed home. Preliminary reports show that Stane was heavily tortured for hours before finally having his heart ripped out of his chest. We are still investigating potential suspects."_

_O'Riley: "Thank you Sharon for your detailed report. Good luck in your investigation. Our sources say that Anthony Stark will now take over-"_

"Detailed my ass." Bucky mumbled in annoyance as he flipped off the television, tightening his grip around Nat's waist and pulling her closer. Peggy's cousin didn't give out any of the good stuff, like how almost one thousand cuts had been sliced into Stane without him losing too much blood, the bucket of water sitting by the door that they used to drown him in, or how not just his still beating heart was ripped from his chest, but both eyes were also torn from their sockets.

It had been a work of beautiful, sweet revenge.

Sam snorted across the living room, careful to keep his voice down for the ones sleeping on the couch. The Avengers were scattered around in various positions and states of consciousness with empty pizza boxes lining the coffee table. Bucky and Natasha were draped across one another in the loveseat, while Sam sat alone in his laz-e-boy chair. Thor, Steve, Tony, Pepper, and Peter were curled together on the couch, snuggling into the comfortable leather while Bruce, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro leaned against their legs on the floor.

After Steve and Bucky washed Stane's blood from their bodies and clothes, they rushed back to the warehouse to find their team waiting for them. The reunion had been nothing short of disgusting, with Steve and Tony refusing to keep their hands off one another for the rest of the day. Clint had decided that they needed some major downtime after everything that had happened in the form of pizza and puppy piles. Pepper and Peter were already waiting at the house when they arrived since Bucky had informed them of Tony's kidnapping earlier, and the two friends joined in on the refusal to take their hands off of Tony for the foreseeable future. Even sleeping, Pepper had her arms around her best friend's waist, and Peter was stretched across their legs and cuddled up with his head in Tony's lap.

Tomorrow would be busy, with Tony and his friends being interrogated by the police about what happened (Clint had gone over the crime scene with a fine-toothed comb and confirmed that there was absolutely no evidence that the Avengers were involved), lawyers and reporters wanting to talk to Tony about his new role at Stark Industries (they already hired a lawyer they could trust in the future proceedings, Matt Murdock), and discussing the two new teenagers they all suddenly had in their lives.

The Maximoff twins were good kids with good hearts, and the Avengers would need to deliberate on how they could potentially fit into their growing team. Tony now had more money than god, and a platform for which he could sponsor two kids from a foreign country to go to school and work in America. Only two things were clear though, Wanda and Pietro would not be forced to go home to Sokovia, and they would never, ever find themselves in another situation like with Zemo. They were under the protection of the Avengers now.

The Avengers would also need to deal with the fallout from having Pepper and Peter know the true business behind the seemingly normal group of friends. Pepper was more perceptive than anyone gave her credit for, and Peter Parker was a certified genius. The two of them had figured out who Steve and the Avengers were the moment they returned home with Tony, but hadn't bothered to give their opinion yet, too happy to have their friend safe and sound.

But all of that could wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, the Avengers and their friends simply basked in each other's company. There was nobody knocking down their door for answers, Tony was safe and unharmed in the arms of the man who loved him, and the Godfather was playing on cable.

XX

_One month later_

"Are you ready, Mr. Stark?"

Tony grinned at his PA in the mirror, securing his "A" styled cufflinks and straightening his red and gold tie. The perfectly tailored suit that hugged his body was the most expensive thing he'd worn in almost four years.

He wasn't the same skinny, broke, depressed kid who Steve rescued from the coffee shop that day. Tony had filled out from training with the Avengers and his skin had returned to its natural, healthy, glowing tan. Clint still refused to let anyone else cut Tony's hair, even if he was a billionaire now, and Tony was perfectly fine with that.

Tony turned twenty-one one week after Obie killed Maria and Howard and kidnapped him. He spent it mourning his parents at their funeral. Steve and the Avengers kept the vultures off of his back for as long as they could, and he managed to sneak away back to the mansion with Rhodey without anyone following them. The two of them had gotten absolutely obliterated on Howard's stash of liquor, and fell asleep crying in each other's arms.

His lawyer, Matt Murdock, had informed him the next day at the reading of the will that Howard and Maria had managed to update their will _before _their deaths. Apparently Howard had begun to suspect Stane of betraying him, and had it changed in secret. Everything, the company, the house, the assets, the money, _everything_, went completely to Tony to do with as he saw fit.

After that, things got a little crazy. Tony and Steve both graduated college. When their names were called in their respective ceremonies, the auditorium could have shook with how loud Thor's cheering was. Tony immediately hired Pepper as his PA with a promise to promote to CEO once she dug her claws into the company, and gave Peter and Harley an employment contract for them to sign the minute they graduated. In the meantime, both boys would be coming on as interns in the R&D department in the summer.

Wanda and Pietro were granted visas, sponsored by the one and only Tony Stark, and had an apartment two blocks away from the Stark mansion and a five minute walk from the finest high school in New York.

The Avengers and the Howling Commandos got together one glorious evening of comradery and celebration, and had drunkenly decided to switch places. In the light of the morning and everyone's miserables hangovers, it still sounded like a good idea. Tony helped relocate the Howling Commandos to Boston, and the Avengers came to New York and took up residence in the Stark mansion.

Tony had his friends by his side, and they gave him the confidence to run Stark Industries the way he wanted, starting with this press conference. He spun around to face Pepper, lightly tapping the delicate little ring box in his jacket pocket and giving her a fond smile, which she returned.

"I believe so, Miss Potts. How do I look?" He gave a little twirl and winked at her.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Camera ready. Now let's go, those reporters won't wait out there all day."

Tony snorted. "Yes they will. I'm Tony fucking Stark, Pep."

"Yes, yes you are."

He followed her out into the wide conference room where fifty reports waited with their cameras flashing and their microphones outstretched. Rhodey waited for him by the podium, sharply dressed in his military uniform, and Tony didn't miss the faint blush on either his or Pepper's face as their eyes roamed over each other. Steve was sitting down on stage, Tony's personal guest, with Bucky at his shoulder and Nat, Clint, Sam, and Thor posted around the room as personal security.

Tony stood in front of the podium and tapped the microphone, the resounding echo confirming that it was on. His eyes flickered to the wall across from him, and Tony let the familiar painting of the Massachusetts Bay give him strength. He took a deep breath, winked at the love of his life, and addressed the reporters.

"I never got to say goodbye to my father. There's questions I would've asked him. I would've asked him how he felt about what his company did, if he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts. Personally, I knew my father wasn't the man everyone else remembered him as from the newsreels, but I have to believe that he couldn't have known what his closest friend had done. During the war on Hydra here in New York years ago, I saw innocent young Americans threatened by the very weapons I created to defend and protect them. I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero-accountability, so I got out. I had my eyes opened, and I came to realize that I had more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries, and putting all resources from that division into the new branch of Clean Energy."

And the crowd went wild.

XX


End file.
